Trouble
by platedlizard
Summary: Wherein Valdemar tries to hire an assassin, and digs through the pile of horse manure that is Our Dear Heroine's Mind.
1. Getting Work

I want reviews please. This is my first fanfic and I want to know what I am doing wrong or right. Don't be afraid to be hard. If you like it please tell me what exactly you like, not just "hey this is great." (although that's ok too ^bg^) Thanks.  
  
General description, girl assassin (yeah, like we haven't seen that before. Heh) gets in way over her head when she accepts a job. Note: Valdemar and everything in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey, except my characters who may only be used with my permission, and the intro, which I swiped from Steven Brust, who swiped it from Dragnet. I swiped some other stuff from him too, hope he doesn't mind. Heh. Oh, it's PG 'cause of some swearing and violence.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
This is the city: Haven, Valdemar.  
  
The capital and largest city of Valdamar contain all that makes up the domain, but in greater concentration. All of the petty squabbles within the noble and merchant classes, and sometimes among them, become both more petty and more vicious here. Nobles fight for honor, Heralds fight for justice, crime lords for money, and some crazy bastards just fight for fun.  
  
If, in the course of this squabbling, a law is broken, the injured party may appeal to the Throne, which oversees the interplay of its citizens with an impartiality that does credit to a Herald judging a murder. But the brotherhood of criminals that exists in the darkest reaches of Haven operates illegally. The Throne is both unwilling and unable to enforce the laws and customs governing this inner society. Yet, sometimes, these unwritten laws are broken.  
  
That's when I go to work. I'm an assassin.  
  
**********************************************  
  
I'm not exactly certain when I knew that the job was going sour. The most obvious moment was when, after several days of trying to shadow him, I discovered what my target really was. Or it might have been the moment I first saw him sitting in the Broken Arms, one of the 'better' taverns near Exile's Gate, for a given value of 'better'. But I think it was moment I first accepted the job.  
  
Ah, I remember it clearly.  
  
I looked around appreciatively. The Red Griffin was one of the better taverns in the Wool Market area. Lots of wealth comes through, but the nobles, for the most part, wouldn't be caught dead here. This is where the higher class of merchants likes to gather to eat, drink, and talk business, sometimes sensitive business. The Griffin has alcoves with curtains that could be drawn shut for privacy from prying eyes and ears.  
  
:Boss, he's here: Without being obvious I turned my gaze to the front door, and sure enough there he was.  
  
"Thank you for coming."  
  
"Nice place."  
  
"Glad you like it, the venison here is excellent," my potential patron told me as he took the seat across from me.  
  
"I'll take your word for it, I'm on a diet." I took a minute to examine him. He would have been easy to describe as plain, but in his own way he was quite striking. He was dressed in an understated style, easy to look over, which I suppose was the point, but the quality of the clothing was high. He certainly wouldn't have been kicked out of the Palace for being too scruffy; that is, if they even noticed him. Hidden in the folds of the cloth were about four or five slight bumps that marked hidden daggers and no doubt other weapons. Likely he had noticed the same about me. His hair was unremarkable, brown-turning to gray and starting to thin at the top. His face would have been plain as well, if it wasn't for his dark, intense, eyes. Those eyes made me want to stir uncomfortably, but I held myself still. It wasn't as if I wasn't used to working for strong personalities.  
  
The waiter appeared as silent as a ghost and took our orders, disappearing as quietly as he had materialized. We chatted about nothing important until our food arrived and closed the curtain after the waiter left.  
  
"Well, I understand you do work."  
  
I smiled to myself, "No, I think you made a mistake, I'm actually quite lazy."  
  
:I could have told him that:  
  
:Shut up Roxy:  
  
"Ah," he frowned to himself.  
  
I took a bite of my most excellent pinkfish tossed salad, "but I know someone who isn't."  
  
"Do you know where I could find him?"  
  
"Her, and no. I'm afraid she doesn't get out much."  
  
:Only if I kick her fat butt outside:  
  
:Roxy..:  
  
:Sheesh, you have as much humor as Prince Charming over there:  
  
:Shut up:  
  
"Ah, well I'm wondering if you could relay her the details of the job? As a favor between friends of course. I am willing to recompense her for her trouble."  
  
"Well, maybe. Sometimes she can be picky. A few more details about the job may convince her." I paused as if to consider and toyed with my salad. "She likes venison, you know, but she hates veal, won't have anything to do with it at all. She also hates to get involved with government projects, there's so much red-tape and paperwork it's not funny!" I shook my head sadly at the thought.  
  
For those of you not following along he just asked me if I was willing to kill someone for him for a substantial sum of money. I said that was possible, but I needed more details. I don't do political assassinations, because that's a sure-fire way to get killed. Governments have far more resources and reach then a lowly free-lance assassin, and the Heralds do their job well here. There is nothing as bad getting hung as a traitor, except torture. I hate pain.  
  
And I don't kill kids because even assassins have to draw the line somewhere. We aren't all scum.  
  
"Good to know. I'm not feeding her veal, and there's no government work involved." This should have reassured me, but somehow it didn't. I frowned internally, but kept the expression off my face. So far my client, who will likely remain nameless for the time being, was saying all the right things, but something still seemed out of slightly out of kilter.  
  
:I'm not picking anything up Boss:  
  
:Ok, but take a circuit around the block anyways, I want to make sure no one is sneaking up on us. Something's weird here:  
  
:Ask him who he wants done, and why:  
  
:That might commit me... Oh, all right:  
  
I swallowed a mouthful and said, "Who, why?"  
  
"To the point aren't you? Don't answer that. Hmm, Who: is a merc who goes by a couple of different names. Jendar, Knives, and Jask are the three I know of. He likes to hang out at The Broken Arms and a couple of the other taverns in and around Exile's Gate. Why: he asks too many questions."  
  
I ignored the hint, if he wanted to hire me then he was going to have to give me everything he knew about this guy. There's a reason why I charge so much, I'm a professional and one of the best in the business. So far I hadn't seen any reason for me to go after him, three or four toughs with swords could take him out for a third of what my client was going to pay me. I said so.  
  
He laughed, "Last week this guy took out three toughs without working up a sweat. They call him 'Knives' because he carries a sword, but has never needed to draw it. Those toughs had swords and he just bowled them over. Didn't kill them either, which was even more impressive."  
  
The job sounded good although I still felt there was something wrong, but it wasn't as if I hadn't taken out good fighters before. The way I work it doesn't really matter how good a fighter the target is, the target just never really get a chance to use his, or her, skills to defend themselves. Usually. Still, something was making me twitchy and I wanted a reason to back out and couldn't think of one, and I did really need the money.  
  
:Chill Boss, I don't Feel anything, and it's my job to watch for this kind of stuff. There's nothing wrong:  
  
:If you're sure... Hellfires, I've never paid any attention to my instincts anyways, why start now?:  
  
:Heh, that's why you have me around:  
  
:Damn strait, scale-face:  
  
:Love ya too Boss:  
  
I turned my attention to my client from my food and raised an eyebrow, "Time limit?"  
  
"None, just don't take more then two months." Satisfied that I'd agreed to do the job he handed me a file of papers and a bag of money. "The standard fee and information" he explained, meaning 1,000 sliver and everything he had on the target.  
  
"One more thing: My friend shouldn't need to, but if something goes wrong how does she get into contact with you?" I saw his expression of annoyance and sighed, "Look, even the simplest of jobs can go bad. She shouldn't have any problem with a tough, but if she does she needs to have a way to give you a heads up. Preventing disasters is part of what you hired her to do."  
  
I saw him growl to himself, but he had to agree with my reasoning. "Leave a note at the Lord and Lady and I'll get into contact with you as soon as I can."  
  
With more polite words that don't mean anything he pulled the curtain back and paid the waiter. I left a nice tip too.  
  
I left with my nice tip and stepped out the door and disappeared into shadow. This was one of the things I was really good at, The Client may have been good at blending in with a crowd, but I was a master at it. Being able to disappear into a crowd or an empty street was one of the best ways to keep your skin in one piece. Looking innocent and completely unable to commit any sort of crime, let alone cold-blooded murder, was another. Sometimes being a woman is an asset rather then a handicap.  
  
Halfway home Roxy landed on my shoulder with a silent thump and hid under my cloak. Her scales brushed my neck and not for the first time I wondered how a reptile could grow wings and learn to fly.  
  
As a precaution I doubled back and checked my path to make sure The Client didn't get any funny ideas. They usually don't, but occasionally one of them is a real joker and thinks he can get his money back by killing me when I'm done. No one tries that anymore with me after what happened to the first two, but it pays to be careful. Soon enough I was at the cheap house I rented in the lower-middle class side of town. Nothing was wrong and no one was there, I tossed the money and notes in my secret safe and went to bed. Win or lose I was committed now.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Roxy and I found eachother about ten years ago in the Pelagir Hills. I must have been about ten or eleven, and was running from, well, that doesn't matter now. Anyways, here I was, lost and alone in a very scary place. I had food and water for about two days and I couldn't trust the stuff that was growing in the jungle. I did have some weapons, a couple of knives, a sling and stones, and a bow, but had run out of arrows. I was as close to being terrified as the day I first killed someone. All of the sudden I felt this tiny soundless voice, if that makes any sense to you, in the back of my mind. It was as lost and scared and much more helpless then I was, and despairing of someone to come and save it. Without thinking I turned and followed the voice.  
  
I'm not sure to this day how far I walked. You may have heard descriptions of the Pelagir Hills, of plants that walk and stalk like animals, and animals that stay rooted in one place like plants, except for the endless screaming. Well I'm here to tell it is weirder then that. The fact is the Pelagirs can't be really described well, because there is always something weirder and more dangerous then the last weird and dangerous thing. Not a place for a girl-child to be, but the last couple of years I had found myself in a lot of places a girl- children shouldn't be, in that the jungle wasn't any different then the rest of my life.  
  
I had walked for hours when I suddenly realized that the voice must be quite close. I looked around but the patch of jungle I was walking toward didn't look any different then any other patch, and I couldn't see anyone else around. I was just starting to debate the merits of shouting when a sudden spurt of panic made me stop and look down. There on the jungle carpet, an inch from my right foot, was a tiny winged lizard, no bigger then my palm. It was very clearly the source of the voice. I sent happy thoughts to it, love, comfort, safety, all that good stuff. I must have gotten through because it, no, she, started to relax. She apparently didn't associate me with the good feelings she was getting, because when I bent down she hissed and spread her wings to make herself look bigger. Picking her up I got two things from her, my first bite and my first message. The poison in her fangs wasn't enough yet to do more then raise a couple of welts that went away in only a few days.  
  
:Mama?:  
  
:Love you Sweetheart:  
  
I found a tree hut; that's a tree that grows into the shape of a hut, with furniture and everything, I said that place was weird; and made camp in it. I soaked some of my jerky in water from my canteen until it was soft and fed it to Roxy. The next day I stepped outside, closed my eyes, chose a direction, and we hiked into Valdamar.  
  
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Hi! I just made some minor changes to this chapter, nothing big. My next one will be up tonight or tomorrow morning.  
  
Dec. 9, 2003, more minor changes. Edited some stuff I missed the second time around. Nothing big. 


	2. Stalking Prey

Valdemar, Velgarth, and any characters or places you recognize belong to Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon, and is being used without permission. Original characters and plot belong to me and may only be used with my permission. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and no money has been or will be made with this story.  
  
***************************************************** Chapter 2. Stalking Prey  
  
I woke up around mid-morning. I know many people who, after a long night of partying, are able to get up at the crack of dawn. I also know others who have to sleep in till afternoon. I'm in between, I've never been able to sleep past mid-morning, but I find it hard to get up early or late. Don't ask me why. I got up, made my bed, got dressed in my usual skirt, shirt, and vest, and walked downstairs to the kitchen for some breakfast. It looked like a windstorm had hit.  
  
"ROXY!!"  
  
:What?!:  
  
:Look what you did!:  
  
:It wasn't me! It was the cat!:  
  
I glowered, :What cat!? We don't have a cat. You eat cats!:  
  
:But this one's so pretty, can we keep her Boss? Please? I won't eat her, I promise!:  
  
:NO!: I searched the kitchen for the damn cat. :Where is she?:  
  
:Outside, you scared her when you yelled: Roxy sounded hurt.  
  
The problem with Roxy is that she thinks she wants a pet. So she brings home a puppy or kitten, or sometimes one of the neighbor's pigeons. A few days later it might rain, or snow, or Roxy might just not feel like going outside to hunt. So her "pet" becomes her dinner. I've tried telling her that it is wrong to eat an animal that you have decided to make into a companion, but it never sticks. Sometimes I think she has no moral sense at all. Plus I'm the one who gets to clean up their messes.  
  
I walked to the rear of the kitchen and found that the back door was ajar. Peering outside I spied the black cat crouching behind my redberry bush. Seeing me, she crouched down even further and then turned around and dashed under the fence. I glared at her retreating backside, "You dumb moggy, it's not me you should be scared of!" and slammed the door shut.  
  
:Awww Boss!:  
  
:Don't whine, we've talked about this. Unless you stop eating them I am not going to let you have any pets! Now leave me alone long enough to get some tea and toast inside me:  
  
I don't think I need to describe the rest of my morning. Suffice to say I made my toast and tea before tackling the mess. I'm not sure how a cat could make such a huge mess but I am almost certain that Roxy helped. It looked like Roxy had tried to feed the cat. The milk was spilled and somehow I don't think a cat would be able to tip the jug over.  
  
I spent the next few hours reading the notes The Client had left me and cleaning house. Roxy spent her time sulking about the cat. My target was supposed to have all the scars and other marks of a good street fighter. He was middle age or thereabouts, and was from Outkingdom, Seejay, Ruvan, or Jkatha perhaps, apparently no one knew for sure. I wondered vaguely if and when exactly he'd been in Jkatha. I hated that kingdom and most of the things that went on in it, and it would be nice to find out if he had been a sell-sword there as well. Or maybe not; a note further down indicated that he had been in Valdemar for quite some time, maybe a couple of decades. Too long to be one of Garth's Raiders. Oh well, revenge has never been My Thing.  
  
When it started to get dark again we left the house. Roxy took off and was careful to remain at a distance. From far away someone might mistake her for a bird or bat, but never up close. There would be questions, and I didn't feel like trying to explain her. The only folks around here that have non-human partners were the Heralds and I didn't feel like letting them know about me. Somehow I just don't think we would get along to well.  
  
My journey took me into one of the most disreputable parts of Haven, the neighborhood near Exile's Gate. Guards patrolled in threes and fours, and even plague rats went in pairs for safety. Despite the warm spring weather I kept my cloak on to cover up my outfit, I didn't want anyone to think I was a whore, even though I wasn't really dressed like one. Some men think that any women walking alone in this neighborhood are free for the taking, and I didn't want to waste any time beating the crap out of an attacker. Roxy stayed as close to me as she dared, her toxic bite might be hard to explain away but if it came to a fight a little backup would be helpful. Fortunately nothing happened.  
  
I took another turn and came to The Broken Arms. It was time to see my target in person.  
  
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Assassination is a special skill. Oh, it seems easy, lots of folks kill other people after all, but it isn't. People kill eachother all the time, in the heat of a battle or family argument, but to be able to plan and conduct the murder of someone you don't know and have no feelings for one way or the other is the rarest skill of all. Armies spend weeks trying to instill it into their new recruits. There are, perhaps, four or five others in Haven who have my talent, and close to a dozen crazies who actually enjoy killing. Eventually the crazies get caught, their need causes them to take risks that myself and the other talented wouldn't take. I don't associate with them. I also don't associate with other assassins, after all, how can you be friends or lovers with someone you might later have to kill?  
  
I don't actually remember the first person I killed, which was understandable considering the circumstances, but still rather disturbing when I think about it. I do, however, remember very clearly the first person I was paid to kill.  
  
It was about four years ago. She was the Madam of a rather disgusting little whorehouse who had done something to anger the local crimelord. I never got the full details, but it seemed this particular Madam had gotten into the habit of selling information to the crimelord's rival. Since Madam's House was in the middle of crimelord #1's territory you can where he might just a little pissed off. I went in as a potential employee and talked to her. We couldn't come to an agreement and politely said our fair- wells. A few weeks later someone broke in and apparently was discovered by the Madam while trying to steal some valuables from her office. The thief, whose identity was never discovered, killed the Madam, and she remains at large to this day.  
  
I remember walking away from the House wondering if I should be feeling anything.  
  
***************************************************  
  
The landlord of The Broken Arms doesn't allow anyone to mess with his customers. No whores work the floor there and you can go in with the expectation that the only money that will leave your purse is what you pay for your drinks and meal. The food and drink probably won't make you sick and you aren't likely to get stabbed in the back in anything more then a metaphorical sense. I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the job here, but I was likely to pick up some information on my target. At the vary least I will be able to observe him.  
  
He didn't come in that night, or the next, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he appeared. Roxy made various smart-mouth comments, which I ignored, about how I should send him a note and ask him out for a date. Long ago I decided to never take relationship advice from a reptile. My patience paid off, or as the Holy Book put it, 'Lo! On the third day He appeared.'  
  
:What do you think Roxy?:  
  
She took a peek through my eyes. :I don't know Boss, do we know this guy? 'Cause he sure seems familiar:  
  
:What do you mean? I've never seen him before in my life:  
  
:That's 'cause you never pay any attention to the guys you do meet:  
  
:Shut up:  
  
I carefully examined my target. The description of him in my client's notes was pretty accurate. Scars from knife fights, check. Face like an axe, check. Just pass the prime of his life, check. I'd hate to get into a fight with him. I noticed as he made his way to a table that the other drinkers in the room gave him space, but weren't cringing in fear. That meant that he was respected, but wasn't nuts. He'd fight, and fight well, if he had to, but otherwise he left people alone. I filed that away in my memory, you never know what might be useful.  
  
I spent the evening flirting letting the guy sitting next to me chat me up while keeping an eye on my target. In my currant persona I wasn't a whore, but I wasn't far from it either. If my persona became a bit more high class she would probably become some rich man's mistress. I actually kind of enjoyed it, it wasn't often that someone wanted me for something other then a job. I turned him down with a laugh of course, in my line of work it doesn't pay to get too close to anyone.  
  
The longer I watched my target the more uncomfortable I felt. I mean, this guy shouldn't be difficult, anyone can be killed if they aren't prepared for it. I've done it fourteen times but I couldn't help feeling that this job was different.  
  
:Roxy?:  
  
:Boss! I swear I don't feel any threat from him! Geez, how many times do I have to tell you!:  
  
:'Any threat from him?': I echoed :What do you mean by that?:  
  
:Nothing:  
  
I sighed and got back to work. I probably would only get one chance so I would have to carefully plan the strike and make sure I get the timing right. Nothing I haven't done before. It's all in a day's work for this assassin.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Hi! It's me, the author again. How did you like that?  
  
AtheneMiranda: Thanks! I've retouched the first chapter and corrected some (minor) stuff.  
  
Rosethorn: I haven't actually written much, but I have been writing stuff in my head for a long time. The past few months I've been thinking about the books and authors I like to read and why I like to read them. I do have a couple of other stories bouncing around in my head. When I'm done with this one I might take a crack at them. I am a fairly cynical person myself, so maybe Josan is a Mary-Sue, I dunno. (Would a cynical person even write a Mary-Sue?). I do know I don't kill people for a living! Heh. Comma issues. Sometimes I'm a bit dense, could you give me an example? Alberich, don't worry, he is most definitely NOT a Romantic Interest.  
  
Edited Dec 9 2003 for minor grammar problems, etc. 


	3. Doing 'Research'

Valdemar and everything in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey, and I am using her world without her permission. I am also making $0 doing so and will be buying her next book in hardback because I now have a job WAHOO!!! 'Scuse me. Morninglight has very kindly donated the services of Reghan. Thank you, Thank you! If you haven't read her stories ScarredHearts, HeartHealer, and The Sunlord's Own then you need to.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Time to get to work.  
  
I suppose you are wondering when I am going to off the guy. I've gotten the job, gotten paid in advance (which, by the system-of-honor we cold-blooded- murderers operate by means I am fully committed to killing my target. The only way to back out would be to return the money and break my contract, or, as we in the business call it 'commit suicide'), and checked him out. I have some idea where to kill him too. So why don't I just stick a knife through his eye and be done with it?  
  
I wish it were that easy.  
  
There are several problems with that. The first is that murder, whether it be assassination or a duel, is very illegal. To the executioner all criminals are the same height. I would have to plan the strike so that there would be no witnesses, after all I don't like to kill a laundry women walking home late at night. I need to make sure my target either doesn't see me, or doesn't recognize me as a threat. He also needs to die quickly. Now, this guy is a fighter, if I took a strike at him and missed, and anything short of death is 'missing' with this type of fellow, he would probably make the rest of my short life a living hell. If I was lucky he might leave enough for the Guards to arrest and execute. Not my idea of a Good Time.  
  
There wasn't a whole lot of information on him in that file I got from The Client, but that wasn't unusual for a sell-sword. Unless the guy was a member of the Mercenaries Guild, which I doubt, there won't be much of a paper trail on him, but what little there was I needed to find out.  
  
:Roxy? Want to go do some research?:  
  
:Do I have a choice? Oh, all right: She sighed and stood up and stretched her wings before flying down from her cushion on my wardrobe to my shoulder. I gave the scales covering her ears a scratch. :Only if you buy me a rabbit:  
  
:Don't want to hunt today Scale-face?:  
  
:Not if I'm doing 'research':  
  
:Heh:  
  
First stop, an old friend of mine, Reghan.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Reghan came to Haven a few years ago. I don't know much about her history other then she used to be a slave who had been stolen from somewhere slightly north of the Valdemarian-Karsite Border. I'm about as close her as I am to anyone outside of Roxy, which is to say she and I are on speaking terms. I like her, unlike most women her age she doesn't try to treat me like her daughter. She was in her mid thirties with shrewd blue-gray eyes, a crooked nose from some long-ago fight, and her blond hair starting to turn white. She probably knew what my job was, but in case you haven't noticed it's my policy never to admit it.  
  
"Well Josan, what bring you to my humble abode?" Well actually she said "Well Josan, what brings you to this gods-forsaken dump?" but I happen to like 'humble abode' better.  
  
:That's because you're a frustrated Bard, Boss:  
  
:Shut up:  
  
"Reghan, do I need to have to have a reason to come an visit you?"  
  
She openly laughed at me. Me! Why, the nerve!  
  
:Boss, you're acting stupid:  
  
:That's the point, Scale-face:  
  
"I need to do some research on a guy for a friend of mine." I watched her expression change, first a flash of disgust, then her blank business face. I bit back my irritation, after some of the illegalities Reghan has helped to commit with her forgeries she has no right to judge me. Telling her that, however, would only make her refuse to help me.  
  
"Another 'job' I take it," she said flatly.  
  
:You should tell her that your friend has the hots for him:  
  
I ignored that. If I listened to Roxy I would be opening my legs more often then a tupenny whore. Reptiles have no morals.  
  
"Well yeah, what did you expect when I walked in here?"  
  
Reghan sighed and shook her head sadly. I got the impression that she wanted to say more, but knew it was no use. "I just sell forgeries, not information, as you very well know." "I need a forgery, in fact you might have some already on hand. I am a humble servant of the Royal Treasury and I need to check the Tax records of one sell-sword named Jask or Jendar. I'm also an employee of a landlord who needs to do a little checking up on a renter who is behind on his rent."  
  
She just snorted at me and got to work on my documents while I leaned against the wall and exchanged jokes with Roxy. In short order Reghan finished (she had to be the fastest writer I have ever seen) and handed my papers. I glanced at them to make sure they looked good and handed her the asking price without haggling. Reghan was a master at forging and I wouldn't insult her by trying to pay less.  
  
****************************************************  
  
I won't bother telling you all the details of what happened next. I stood in line and read some Treasury and Immigration documents at the Palace. Then I stood in line and read some more documents at the various banking institutions in Haven. Then I stood in line some more to read some other documents at the small local Mercenary Guild branch. Repeat, for days. Ick, I wish I had someone to do my research for me.  
  
While I was doing all this standing and waiting and reading I started to over-hear some very interesting news on the Hardorn War. It had been almost a year since Hardorn had tried to kidnap Princess Elspeth and invade Valdemar and I thought we were back to glaring at eachother over the border. Now normally I don't pay much attention, as my business is strictly local, however I heard someone mention 'Garth's Raiders' and that brought back bad memories. I straitened up and pretended to read a document while listening to the voices just outside the study door.  
  
"Well, what did you expect? Well pulled our Companies out of there before the invasion because he kept breaking contract with us."  
  
"I know, but hiring that scum? I'm surprised they even stay in business! Not even Karse will take them!"  
  
"They did get badly burned by the Tedrels." the voices trailed off down the hall and in any case I was no longer listening. I felt hot, then cold, then hot again at the thought of those slime-bags anywhere near me.  
  
:Boss?:  
  
I wanted a piece of them.  
  
:Boss? Are you all right?:  
  
Especially that worthless pile of steaming horse turds named Ga.  
  
:HEY BOSS!:  
  
I almost bit through my tongue. :OWW!:  
  
:You ok?:  
  
:No! Geez, what are you trying to do? Kill me?:  
  
:Naw, I'm not getting paid, so what's wrong?:  
  
:Hardorn hired Garth's Raiders:  
  
:Oh,: She left it at that. Roxy hadn't been born, or hatched, or incarnated in grove of trees, or whatever it is her species does, when I had my little experience with the Raiders, but she knew about them from my mind.  
  
I sighed, stood up, and stretched feeling every vertebrae pop and snap into place. I tried to put the Raiders into to the back of my mind where they belong. They were old history for me and I had a job to worry about.  
  
:Roxy, this guy Jask or Jendar is as slippery as an eel. Neither of those names are his real name, and there hasn't been anyone from outkindom in the last twenty years that matches his description, unless he's a leftover Tedrel:  
  
:Maybe he's from Valdemar and cultivates that accent:  
  
:Great, and just why would he do that? Never mind. I'm tired of sitting around in dusty record rooms all day, lets go home:  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Pace forward.  
  
Turn.  
  
Stop.  
  
Remember.  
  
I've walked these streets more times then I care to remember but it always gets me, it just kills me, that I am here alive. I should have died over ten years ago, and I wonder every day when Death is going to realize the He got cheated. I survived what most others don't. Why me? They call it survivor's guilt, which is stupid. The word "survivor" conjures images of flood victims. Not raiders who had it coming to them; no matter how young those raiders were or how they became raiders. One thing I learned early, there is no such thing in this world as 'Justice'.  
  
:Boss? You awake?:  
  
:No. I'm fully dressed walking down East Shady Lane during the day in my sleep. What do you think?: I shot back.  
  
:That's what I thought. No wonder you haven't noticed those guys following you:  
  
:Hellfires, what guys?:  
  
:Those guys: She showed me a mental picture of two thuggish looking sell- swords. To show you how really out of it I was, these guys were about as subtle as a drunken horse. Sometimes I'm not the most observant person in the world. I cursed my wandering mind and hauled it back to the present.  
  
:How long have they been following me?:  
  
:Since you left North Savil:  
  
:Shit:  
  
I bit my lip and thought. There were a couple ways to deal with this. I could just disappear in to the woodwork. There is just no way these guys could keep me in sight if I didn't want them too. I could let them catch me, but that wouldn't be good because it would put me on the defensive. Or I could confront them. The third option was the best. The street was busy and these guys couldn't risk a fight that might bring in law enforcement. Neither could I for that matter, I didn't think the Guard had anything on me but you never know for sure. However it was unlikely that these guys would want to take the risk.  
  
:Roxy, I think I'm going to have a little chat with these guys:  
  
I waited until the crowd got really thick and then ducked into the doorway of a neighborhood bakery. I watched the two grunts walk past and waited until I got a signal from Roxy to shadow them.  
  
We had walked several blocks before they realized that they had lost me. I could see them start to mill and crane their necks around trying to find me. It was tempting to just turn and walk away, but I needed to know why they wanted me.  
  
"Looking for me gentlemen?" I nearly laughed at their expressions as they whirled around. Grunt #1 glared at me while Grunt #2 glanced down the street again as if wondering how I got from here to there in an instant.  
  
Grunt 1 recovered first, "Yes, as a matter-a-fact we were. Is there somewhere we can go to talk business?"  
  
"Yeah, there's a park nearby," Private enough to have a business talk, public enough to keep them from getting any funny ideas.  
  
We walked there in silence until we got the park. The kids play area was crowded with the usual assortment of tots, but the picnic area was free this time of day. We sat down on the benches, while unseen Roxy took a perch high in one of the trees.  
  
Grunt 2 cleared his throat and glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to over hear us. "We have a job for you."  
  
"Oh?" I said, not giving an inch.  
  
"Yeah," he looked at me. I kept my face expressionless.  
  
"Are you interested?" Grunt 1 said, clearly impatient.  
  
"I'm kind of busy right now. If I knew more about the job I might be able to decide whether or not I can do it."  
  
The two Grunts looked at eachother and tried to imitate my stone-face. Didn't work. I guess they decided to give me some details without making me commit to the job. Grunt 1 said, "His name is 'Knives' and he mostly operates near Exile's Gate."  
  
It's a good thing my stone-face is so good.  
  
:Boss, didn't we do this scene already?:  
  
:Um, yeah. I'm beginning to wonder what in Hell this guy is doing?:  
  
They took my silence as an invitation to continue. "We are willing to pay 3000 gold for his death."  
  
That made me choke. :Lord and Lady, guard me. Sheesh! What is this guy, a Crown Prince?:  
  
I pretended to think. It was real tempting, but two groups of people wanting the same guy dead was starting to make me real nervous.  
  
Roxy, of course, was no help. :You're going to off him any way, take the money!:  
  
I ignored her and shook my head sadly, "I'm sorry, but I have a job already. Thank you for your offer."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Hi guys! I left you a nifty puzzle to think about. I promise that things will start heating up soon and we will have some nice action. Until then, enjoy!  
  
Edited Dec. 9 2003 for grammar, punctuation, and minor changes in prose. 


	4. One Thing After Another

Valdemar and everything in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey and not to me. Please don't sue me Misty, I won't be able to afford your books :-P  
  
Ch. 4 One Thing After Another  
  
Well, well, well. Its just one of those days isn't it.  
  
:Roxy, what do you think?: I looked over at Roxy who was on my coat rack, her favorite perch in my little office.  
  
:I think you're a flaming idiot, Boss:  
  
I didn't ask why, I didn't need to. For a reptile Roxy has a very concrete understanding of money, sometimes I think she should have been an accountant.  
  
:I don't like the complications! That guy has ~two~ groups of people after him. Two! I have never ever even HEARD of such a thing: I sighed as she flicked her wings impatiently at me. :Well, what do you think we should do?:  
  
:I thought you didn't rely on your instincts, I thought that was what I was for!: She replied nastily to me. I glared. :Oh, all right. I guess there is something wrong with this situation: Roxy paused for a minute. :I think we should talk to The Client and find out if he knows anything. Mention the 3000 gold, he may give us a raise:  
  
I thought about it and realized I couldn't think of anything better. :Lets do it:  
  
***  
  
I suppose you are wondering about a few things by now. First of all is probably why I'm even talking to you. The answer is that I am getting paid really well. Not in gold or silver, but in something I value even more, and if you don't understand what I mean by that, then I am certainly not going to tell you.  
  
Second is why I seem to be ignorant about who I am working for. I have heard that in other countries it isn't necessarily so, often the more powerful crime lords in, for example, Seejay or Rethwellan, may actually keep an assassin on staff. A few years ago while doing a favor for a friend I actually met one crime lord in Petra who preferred to do his own dirty work. Other crime lords would even hire him for the more high-priced jobs. I learned a lot from that guy, too bad I had to kill him.  
  
The problem is that this is Valdemar, and Valdemar has Heralds. If I were caught it would be very easy for a Herald to get any kind of information out of me. They don't use torture in Valdemar, they don't need to. They have the Truth-Spell. It has become a matter of policy among the local crime lords to keep their real names to themselves. If you aren't a close associate then you don't know who they are.  
  
***  
  
We took a trip to the Lord and Lady, a rather nice little pub that happened to have various games of chance in a back room that would be legal if they had been declared (and taxed). The bribes necessary to run them were lower then the taxes would have been, and the owner keeps order by cracking the heads of cheaters. The Guard never has to intervene, the owner and any winners never have to pay taxes, and what the tax collectors don't officially know won't hurt them. Everyone is happy. Roxy, as usual, was high overhead; sometimes I wished it wasn't necessary for her to stay secret.  
  
I gave a message to the landlord and waited with a pint of fine Deadman's Ale. It was dark and so heavy it was practically bread. I could have eaten it with a fork. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but I do like good ale, and this was really fine stuff. While I waited I enjoyed my usual hobby of sharing witty jokes with Roxy ("How many Holderkin does it take to light a candle?" "Ten, one Husband and his nine wives")  
  
After about a mark Roxy warned me that The Client was making his way up the street to the pub. First his bodyguards entered and cased the joint. They were good; the first two spotted me right away. Seeing no danger the third signaled to the remaining two and The Client where they waited outside.  
  
The Client entered the pub, calmly walked over to my table, and sat down. He raised an eyebrow at me. I gave him my best smile; I don't think he was reassured.  
  
"I just found out something interesting," I told him, "you know that job you hired me to do? Someone just tried to hire me to do the same job, for six times the amount."  
  
He snorted at me and looked cynically amused. "You agreed to the price, there's no way I'm going to raise it,"  
  
I shook my head in denial, "Don't worry, I turned them down. The price we agreed on is just fine. Getting greedy would only get me into trouble. What worries me is that there is someone else wanting to remove the safety hazard, and I would like to know why it has to go before I complete the job."  
  
"Hmmm," he seemed to think a bit. While he thought I called the serving girl over and ordered ale for him as well. Politeness and courtesy are my middle names.  
  
:Yeah, and your first and last names are Un and Crudeness:  
  
:Shut up:  
  
:Hey, why don't you ask him out on a date? He's cute enough:  
  
:Roxy, one of these days...:  
  
Her only response was a mental chuckle.  
  
I sighed, the Heralds were supposed to be able to talk to their pretty white horses, but I wondered if they have to put up with anything like this. Or maybe it's a flying-reptile thing. Sigh.  
  
My attention snapped back to The Client as he seemed to make a decision. He cleared his throat and raised one eyebrow at me again. Lady guard me, I wish I could do that. Sigh again. My life is so unfair. :Shut up Roxy:  
  
:I didn't say anything!:  
  
:It's called a preemptive strike:  
  
"I'm in the business of exchanging information. Things like which merchant is making the most money on wool, or in which bordello Lord Blank prefers to spend his time, as well as other things of interest. A lot of this information is fairly sensitive, and my associates and I must make sure that no one finds out that we know it. Our friend is unfortunately asking too many questions about my business. He has gotten much closer to the truth then I feel comfortable and he needs to be stopped. As to why someone else wants him to 'retire' I have no idea. It could be that our friend has been asking a lot of questions about someone else."  
  
Now it was my turn to go "Hmmm," The information was interesting, but not anything I couldn't guess on my own. "If you don't mind my asking, exactly what kind of information was he trying to get?"  
  
The Client gave me a half-smile. I collect half-smiles. "He was overheard asking about how much grain and basic supplies were going to the Guard, that sort of thing."  
  
The war with Hardorn. The Client was selling information on that. I didn't know how to respond. It was one thing to gather and sell information that could be used in a little polite blackmail, but to sell information to your country's enemies requires a lot of nerve. I wasn't sure about The Client, but he looked like he was established here in Haven so perhaps he wasn't selling to the enemy. The Target was another story, I agreed with The Client, The Target had to die, and soon.  
  
"Huh, well maybe that is why those guys want him taken care of. If he's doing that kind of research he could end up making a lot of money. They may be just taking out the competition. I want to be sure though; can you do me a favor? You have more resources then I do, could you check them out and find out what is going on?"  
  
"I don't see why not, I won't even charge you for it." The Client frowned in thought for a minute, then smiled at me. I was surprised at the amount of warmth in it. And here I thought The Client was as cold-blooded as Roxy.  
  
:I heard that!:  
  
"Get back to me as soon as you can and I'll see about getting the problem taken care of for you as soon as possible." I promised.  
  
****  
  
A/N As usual this story is a Steven Brust/Mercedes Lackey ("what if Brust wrote a Vlad story in Valdemar") story. If you like the style; read Brust's Vlad Taltos series. If you like the world; read Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar series. Better yet read them both.  
  
Morninglight: I realized about 10 seconds after I posted my response that I got your name wrong. Sorry. The story takes place one year after Arrow's Fall, so I assume that Reghan was in her mid forties at this time. How long has she been in Haven?  
  
AtheneMiranda: I hope this answers at least one of your questions. Don't worry I am going to do a tell-all on Josan's history. She is really tough though, so the only way for her to break down and spill her life story is if Something Bad happens. She will only tell it when she is ready, not when I am.  
  
Other random notes:  
  
There is really a Deadman's Ale, it's made by Rogue Brewery in Newport Oregon. I could be wrong about the town, but I am not wrong about the beer. It really is my favorite. The bottle has a picture of an Incan mummy holding a pint of beer, hence the name. (Yes, I am legal to drink!)  
  
Just about everything I have mentioned in the 'present' and most of the 'past' is important to the plot, and there will be a test afterwards, so take notes! j/k ;-)  
  
My author's note has gotten almost a page long. Interesting. The first one to post a review for this chapter gets cookies and cake!  
  
Dec. 10, 2003. Did some minor changes. 


	5. Out of the Frying Pan

Valdemar and everything in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey and not to me. The original characters and plot are my own.  
  
Ch 5. Out of the Frying Pan.  
  
Back home I pulled out one of my knives and started flipping it. I was worried, I wanted this job done and over with. Roxy was curled up on her pillow on top of the wardrobe.  
  
:Hey Roxy? The more I learn about The Target the more questions I have:  
  
:Well yeah, there's something weird about this guy, but I swear I don't sense any threat from him!:  
  
:Huh: I flipped my knife some more. There was no use asking Roxy what she meant by that, theatrically none of the guys we'd offed were any threat either, they never even knew about us. I wished that I knew more about Gifts in both humans and non.  
  
I sighed and turned my attention back to the job at hand. As Farmer Derik used to say to me, "Soonest begun is soonest done."  
  
:Roxy, time to stop dilly-dallying about the job:  
  
:We gonna do it tonight?:  
  
:Yeah, I don't like the way complications are piling up. I off this guy and we take a vacation over in Deercreek, maybe stay there long enough for the hunting season. I fancy a little deer hunting. Sound good?:  
  
:Yeah!:  
  
I dressed in a rather plain dark brown tunic and charcoal gray trousers with a used-to-be-black-but-is-now-dark-gray cloak to help hide my little gifts. Secreted in every conceivable spot of my clothing were various knives, garrotes, and poison darts. Hanging by my side is a long knife. I don't know how to use a sword, and in any case if it came to a fight with this guy a sword wouldn't help me.  
  
I stepped out the door and into my new life.  
  
***  
  
When I first came to Valdemar I spent I spent some time working on a farm for Farmer Derik. I think he would have liked for me to stay on, but at the time I didn't exactly want to get too close to another human. I kind of kick myself when I think about it, I realize now that the interest he started showing me was purely fatherly, and he didn't want me for anything more then a surrogate daughter. My life would have been so different if I had decided to stay on. Oh well, as they say, 'You can't cross the same river twice'.  
  
During this time Roxy was growing and maturing. Her venom slowly increased in strength and the frequent bites I got from her allowed me to become mostly immune to it. We started out with a mother-baby daughter relationship, which matured into a big sister-little sister one. I tried hiding Roxy from Derik, however I am fairly certain he knew about her, but he never said anything. Sometimes I wonder what he thought about her.  
  
I stayed with Farmer Derik for about two years, so I guess I was twelve or thirteen when Roxy and I left for Haven. I don't know if Derik was surprised or not that I left. I joined a pick-pocketing gang and left after a four or five years when I got old enough for my gang leader to get Ideas. I left in such a manner that it brought attention to the local crime lord, who decided that instead of killing me for such a breach of conduct he would hire me for my first job. About this time the Roxy stopped calling me Mama, and started calling me Boss.  
  
It was Farmer Derik who first taught me how to read and it was he who insisted that I learn my sums as well. I wonder how he's doing.  
  
***  
  
That night I picked my target up at The Broken Arms. He seemed an ordinary enough guy, for a sell-sword, but something about him gave me the creeps. He was sitting at his usual table in a corner farthest from the door drinking a pint of beer. I say drinking, but I wasn't sure how much was actually going into him. The beer here wasn't actually half-bad, I've tasted much worse elsewhere, but it still isn't as good as the Lord and Lady's.  
  
The Target spent his time talking with various individuals, some of whom I had bought information from in the past. I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but I could see their lips move. The interesting thing was that the Target was the one doing the listening. A guy in his position, in my experience, is usually the one selling information, mostly because he doesn't usually have enough money to buy it.  
  
The last information seller left and I noticed that The Target was getting ready to leave himself. He slapped down a few coins, nodded to the nearest serving wench, and headed for the door.  
  
:Roxy, get ready to follow him:  
  
:Right Boss:  
  
I waited for her signal to follow my target out the door. One nice thing about having a partner who was small and could fly was that tailing people was a lot easier then it would normally be. All I had to do is follow her directions.  
  
:He's, confusing his trail, but it looks like he's heading toward 5th and Northeast Vanyel:  
  
:Thanks: I took a short cut through Willow and 3rd and ducked into a nameless alley that runs from 3rd to 5th. I figured I had about ten minuets to get ready. I drew the stiletto I had bought several years ago from a fence and had never used. I don't like to use new knives to finish the job because I would be leaving it with The Target and new blades are easier to trace. Getting caught with the death blade is always a Bad Idea. I'm lucky that Valdemar doesn't have Real Magic, I've seen Real Magic used before and a mage might be able to tell who has handled a murder weapon. Fortunately of all the wonderful things I've heard people tell about the Heralds they've never mentioned anything like that. I pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and put a black veil over my head to hide my face. I could see through the veil but my target couldn't.  
  
While I was waiting Roxy kept a running commentary on The Target. I guess I was lucky the night was so warm, otherwise she might have problems keeping up and I would have to do this on my own.  
  
As always I felt what can only be described as an 'excitement-filled calm'. That is to say, my mouth was dry, my heart thundered, but my hands were steady and I felt no fear or anger or any other emotion. I had driven the knife in more times then I cared to remember and I knew that afterwards I will pay for it as the exhaustion sets in, but for now I blessed my current state.  
  
My spine stiffened slightly at the sound of a man's footsteps.  
  
:Boss, he's here:  
  
:Anyone else around?:  
  
:No, the street is clear:  
  
:Get ready!:  
  
I waited until he had passed me and stepped out of the darkest shadow of that alley, raised my stiletto and got ready to strike.  
  
:Boss! There's a Companion about two blocks away, coming up behind you!:  
  
I cursed silently and pulled back just before the strike and ducked back into the alley. :Did it see me? Where's its Herald?!:  
  
:I don't think so, and I don't see his Herald:  
  
:What the Hell is one of those white horses doing here?!:  
  
:I don't know. Wait. Oh shit Boss, I think he's The Target's! No wonder he looked familiar!:  
  
:The Target's a Herald? SHIT!!: I backed up even further and edged my way down the alley. There was no way in Hell I am going to take a Herald while his horse was watching. I did not want to become a red stain on the pavement. I vowed darkly that The Client was dead meat for setting me up to take a fucking Herald. :The Client fucking LIED to me!:  
  
:Boss! Don't shout! He might Hear us!:  
  
I growled and wanted to ask who might Hear us, but with the Heralds and their witchy horses it doesn't really matter. Now I could hear the thing trotting up to The Target, its hooves chimed in the way that only Companions' do. It paused next to The Target, and I think I heard him pull himself up into the horse's back. A moment latter the Companion trotted away in the direction The Target had been going.  
  
Hiding myself behind a stack of crates in the alley I sat and shook and valiantly fought to keep from throwing my guts up for about half a mark before I couldn't stand it any longer. I hate coming so close to death.  
  
:Roxy, are we safe now?:  
  
:Yeah, I think so. I followed them to a tavern near the Palace, The Companion's Bell. They went inside a building at the rear. I think the guy is changing or something. I don't think they saw us. I'm perched on the roof:  
  
:Well, that's good news anyways: I took a deep breath and began to relax again. Then something about the previous incident that had been lying quietly in the back of my mind jumped up and bit me. :Roxy, why did you think that guy looked familiar?:  
  
:Uhh: I could tell she didn't really want to tell me. I Sent a picture of me glaring at her. :I must have seen him once or twice in the Companion's Field:  
  
:Why were you in those horses' field?:  
  
:They're called Companions, they aren't horses!:  
  
:Don't evade the question:  
  
:They're pretty, I like them: Her voice sounded small to me.  
  
I choked, :You haven't been Talking to them have you?!:  
  
:NO! And I haven't let them see my either, I'm not stupid!:  
  
:Could have fooled me: I sighed and decided to start with the damage control. :How many times have you gone there anyways?:  
  
:Just a couple: Roxy was starting to sound like a sulky child, :I really like them:  
  
I covered my eyes and sighed. :Roxy, we'll talk about this tomorrow. Just, please, stay away from the Companion's Field:  
  
:'K Boss:  
  
****  
  
A/N And the cookies and cake go to Campion! Here ya go! (hands out cake and cookies). Thanks for the review! I don't want Josan to be good OR bad. No one outside of Mother Teresa and the Dalai Llama (sp?) are 100% Good. And I can't think of anyone outside of Hitler who was completely evil. (Hope I didn't trigger Godwin's Law!)  
  
Morninglight: I fixed Reghan's age in the third chapter. Don't worry you guys, I will keep writing.  
  
I couldn't find a "Streets of Haven" map (not that I looked on-line) so I am making up many of the street names and places. I figure that Valdemarians are just like us and name many of their streets after famous people, hence Vanyel, Savil, etc.  
  
[looks around at all the other stories] You know, I don't think I would have written an assassin story if I had realized just how many of them were here already. I feel like I'm one of a hoard! Here's a challenge to anyone wanting to write an assassin-story: write a story about a Herald who does an assassination (or theft if you don't feel comfortable killing people) as part of his work. For example: I think it was heavily implied that Dirk and Kris worked together on some 'jobs', and of course Elspeth, Darkwind, and Co. assassinated Ancar and his top advisors. Heralds sometimes have to do some very dirty work as well as the more glamorous stuff.  
  
Dec. 10, 2003, added some dialogue and description. 


	6. Industry

Note: I've gone through and replaced the apostrophes and quotation marks that FFnet kept doing strange stuff to. That's all.  
  
Valdemar is Mercedes Lackeys and not mine. Original characters and plot are my own.  
  
Ch. 6 Industry.  
  
The next morning I woke up to find that The Cat was back. In fact The Cat was asleep on the foot of my bed. I spent a few minutes simply looking at her, she was pure black with gold eyes and looked like she was about four months old. She seemed tame and even let me pet her. Roxy was nowhere to be seen. I debated whether or not to get up and look for her, I was tempted to just go back to sleep but decided that it was better to find her now before the mess got too big.  
  
Sometimes I hate my life.  
  
I got out of bed, dressed, and did other morning things before I left my room. The Cat followed me to the kitchen, which was surprisingly mess-free. Laid out neatly on a small dish on the floor was a clutch of dead squabs, which The Cat fell on like she was starving. Sitting on the counter eating her own breakfast of one of the squab's parents was Roxy. This was much better then the breakfast of a week ago.  
  
:Looks like you figured out how to feed The Cat:  
  
:Morning Boss. She followed me in, can I keep her?:  
  
I sighed, considering what happened last night Roxy's I-wanna-cat-until-I- get-hungry-and-eat-her approach to pet ownership was the least of my worries. Besides, this one has apparently lasted more then two days, The Cat might have a chance of not being eaten. :Yeah sure. But you feed her and clean up her messes. This is your last chance to prove you can keep an animal, if you eat her then there will be no more pets!:  
  
I set down a bowl of water for Cat and started my own breakfast while thinking about the events of last night.  
  
:Roxy, I think we're in trouble:  
  
*****  
  
The criminal underground in Haven and the rest of Valdemar isn't really a formalized thing. In a land ruled by something that is as close to true Justice as I have ever seen it is hard to have a really formalized organization, however, the rule of law here is not so strict as to make it impossible. For my first seven or eight years here things were going great for the underground, business was brisk and the money was growing. Sure, children were being stolen from the streets and entire villages disappeared into the slave markets down south, but for folks like me it was the boom years. Mind you, I was never even indirectly involved with the slave trade, I stay well away from that kind of thing, but these illegal enterprises feed off of eachother. A slaver might need to buy information on Guard movements from an information broker. The broker might be buying information from a tavern owner, and the tavern owner might have an illegal game or two in the back room, as well as a couple of girls who work upstairs; which is where the slaver's employees go after work. The information broker might have a rival or a business partner who double- crossed him and hires me to take them out. You see how this all works? It's a regular industry.  
  
Well, last year the industry crashed. You see, apparently the slave trade was apparently related to some very high level treason among a few of the Queen's Councilors. When the conspiracy was revealed one of the traitors, Lord Something-or-other, was killed by none other then Princess Elspeth. I haven't heard the full details of the conspiracy, but what I do know is how it affected my trade.  
  
The first effect was that all of the sudden a lot of people wanted me kill a lot of other people. The potential Clients wanted it badly and they wanted it ~now~ as those other folks were suddenly considered huge security risks. It seems the Heralds were finally able to clean house and the criminal organizations were getting hit hard. While this is good for my safe, it is not good for my safety, if you get my drift, and I had turn most of those jobs down.  
  
The second effect, which started about a month after the conspiracy was revealed and the war with Hardorn started, was a sudden cooling of my job prospects. Everyone was keeping the waters still and calm, but murders make a big splash and plenty of ripples. No one wanted to get involved with a murder, not even me. I kept my head down and lived on my savings for as long as I could, but even assassins have to buy groceries and pay the rent.  
  
*****  
  
:We've got a couple of options,: I said to Roxy, :we could return the fee and quit the job, but we need the money. The rent is due next week and without our payment for the job there is just no way for us to afford it. Without it we barely have any spending money for bribes or food:  
  
:I told you to take that 3,000 gold:  
  
I snorted. :I'm glad I didn't take didn't take that money, it would have been just one more complication. Besides, The Client might think we were going to the Throne and decide to have us, well, me anyways, eliminated:  
  
: True: Roxy finished her pigeon, stretched, and hopped down next to Cat whom she began to groom.  
  
:We could do the job,: I continued, :and make sure that his Companion is nowhere nearby when we kill him:  
  
:I don't like it:  
  
:Neither do I, but we may have to. The Client probably knows other assassins, and anyone can be killed, even me. Or we could just take the money and run. Whether or not we finish the job we need to leave Valdemar immediately:  
  
: Where would we go? Petras?:  
  
:Maybe. If we do this Rethwellan might be a good idea. I think my contacts there are still good. The problem is that the Heralds would want to kill me, and I don't know enough about them, and they have a lot more resources then even The Client does. :I closed my eyes and swallowed, :One things certain, none of them know about you, Sweetheart. You are safe whatever happens:  
  
Roxy flew over to my shoulder and rubbed her head under my ear, :I won't leave you, Boss, even if you die. I'll kill anyone who gets you:  
  
Strange isn't it, either way I would be dead, but knowing that someone would revenge my death somehow made me feel better about it. :Thanks Love:  
  
I cleared my throat and continued with my list of options. :We could go to the Heralds, throw ourselves on their mercy and hope like Hell they can protect us from assassination:  
  
Roxy snorted at that idea.  
  
I grinned, :Excuse me Mr. Herald,: I said in my best innocent-heroine voice, :I was going to murder you but I didn't know you were a Herald. I realize now that killing people for money is wrong and icky, but my eeeeeeeeevil Client will kill me if I don't. Can you protect me? And by the way; when is my pretty white horsy showing up?: I fluttered my eyelashes at Roxy.  
  
:EEEWWW! If you do that I might be forced to kill you for the good of the world!:  
  
:But I'm so good and pure I deserve,:  
  
:Pure WHAT? Horse manure?!:  
  
:I deserve,: I said, ignoring the heckling from the peanut gallery, :to have a pretty white horse, even though I have been committing cold-blooded murder for over four years, which is the reason I am going to get all angsty and depressed and try to commit suicide because my True Love was Cruelly Murdered by my Horrible Father! And OUCH!: I said, returning to my normal voice, :Why did you do that?: I felt my ear begin to swell a little where she bit me. It was a good thing I was mostly immune to her poison by now, otherwise I would be very sick or dying.  
  
:Sorry Boss, someone had to stop you for the greater good:  
  
Sigh, :Poor, poor, pitiful me:  
  
: Shut up, Boss:  
  
I sighed again, this time for real. Each of those options had some very serious negatives. If I do the job then the Heralds will want my head on a platter. If I take the money and run, The Client will want my head on a platter. If I return the money to The Client he might let me go, or he might want my head on a platter. If I go to the Heralds then The Client will definitely want my head on a platter. I don't think there are enough platters in world for all of my enemies to put my head on. All of this might not matter; the Grunts might solve my problem by hiring a different assassin to take out the target. If they did that I wouldn't even have to return the money.  
  
And if wishes were horses then I'm a Shin'a'in.  
  
Add to this the fact that I gave my word and so would be ruining my sense of honor if I broke it. However, The Target is Government and I don't do Government jobs. The Client knew that, but maybe he didn't know that The Target was a Herald. The Client, hmmm, now ~there~ was an idea.  
  
:Roxy? I think we should go see if The Client has any information on The Grunts:  
  
: Are we going to return the money?:  
  
:Maybe: I said, :but not now. If I'm going to kill a Herald then I want to know if I'm going to get the protection and support I need. I also need to know if The Client even wants me to kill a Herald, he might not know:  
  
It was warm so I left my cloak and all the little goodies that go with it at home. I made sure that I had plenty of other goodies on myself, made sure that Roxy exited without being seen and walked to The Lord and Lady.  
  
******************  
  
A/N  
  
Yeah, this chapter's a little short. It was either that or have a really long chapter. The next one gets a bit more exciting, I promise.  
  
AtheneMiranda: I hope that answered at least one question!  
  
Is it just me, or is my story awfully talky for an assassin story? Is this annoying people? I suspect most of the story is going to be talk, although if I get enough people asking for action I might change that. Or I might not. I do know there is more action later, but I'm not sure in how many chapters. Please tell me what you think, really! I mean it. Constructive criticism is very much welcomed. An English teacher once told me that, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were on drugs based on your writing," so I've heard it all!  
  
Dec. 10 2003, did some minor fixing, nothing much. 


	7. Into the Fire

Mercedes Lackey owns this world. I'm not her. I haven't even met her yet (although I will Aug. 4 at the Firebird event! Yippee!) Only the plot and original characters are my own. So there.   
  
A/N Thanks AtheneMiranda! This is what I get for assuming that I didn't need to proof read because I 'didn't make a mistake'. Heh. I've edited it and hopefully fixed all the problems, I also added some stuff the end and hopefully cleared up a few other confusing bits. If I *still* missed stuff please let me know!   
  
Ch. 7. And Into the Fire  
  
Before I hit The Lord and Lady I decided to stop over at my favorite fence, a fellow by the name of Kyrtain. While I would like to believe that is not his real name, surely no one would ever choose it. As always his little second hand shop was neat and clean and smelled just a bit like lemons and cheap incense. The lemon came from the soapy water he uses to clean the store; he adds lemon to it to make it smell good. The incense came from an 'investment' he made a few years ago which never panned out. I once asked him why he didn't donate the incense to a nearby Temple and he replied that the smell kept the Guard away.   
  
Kyrtain looked up from his carefully cataloged book of inventory and snorted when he saw it was me, "Well, well, well, look what the dog dragged in." The expression on his face was cynically amused.   
  
I barely prevented my eyes from rolling. I guess he was in one of his funny moods that day. "Kyrtain, I need to buy some information on some guys," and gave him the Grunts', Target's, and The Client's descriptions.   
  
He told me that he didn't recognize them right off the top of his head, which I knew was a lie to drive the asking price up. I told him that he had recognized at least two of those jokers and to quit messing around with me. He sneered and doubled his price, and I broke something valuable. He threatened to sue and I told him that if he did I would tell the Judge where it came from. His price took a mysterious drop and was now only twice as much as I planned to pay. We negotiated a little more and I managed to leave without destroying more then one or two more items. The price we agreed too was slightly more then what I had originally wanted, but those valuable fakes needed to be replaced. Such is compromise, such is life.  
  
He promised me that when he got the information together he would send a messenger to my home, the location of which he had been trying to get out of me for the last two years. I told him that for the next couple of hours I would be at The Lord and Lady, and that he could send the messenger there.  
  
He's rather fun to deal with isn't he?  
  
I made my way to The Lord and Lady where Roxy was already waiting for me on the roof. I checked in with the landlord and to see if my Client had left any messages for me, none were. Then I sat down, ordered an ale and waited.  
  
:How long do you think we'll have to wait?:  
  
:Hellfires, Roxy! How am I supposed to know? The Client might not even want to see us today:  
  
She snorted.  
  
As it turned out I only had to wait about an hour for The Client to show up. As usual he made his way in with his bodyguard. I suspect that their main purpose was for show as he was unlikely to be killed in the middle of the day. He took a seat opposite of me and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well," I said, ignoring the usual pleasantries, "did you find anything?"  
  
"Why aren't I the one asking the questions? Your 'friend' is the one who's getting paid for the job."  
  
I raised my glass in agreement and paused to think.  
  
:Boss, I think he's getting impatient:  
  
:Yeah:  
  
"She just found out something interesting yesterday about the job you gave her, but I wanted to confirm it first before I told you." I did my usual stone-face, I'd make a good card player if gambling ever attracted me.  
  
"Oh? What did 'she' find out?" unfortunately The Client would be better a player then I.  
  
:Boss, better tell him:  
  
"The target's a Herald." Just that, but it said so much. It said; If you knew, you lied to me about the job. It said; If you didn't know then could we call it off? Or does he still need to die? It said; If he needs to still die then I am either going to get paid a lot more then we agreed to, or I am not going to do it. It said; Either way, I'm not very happy about this.  
  
"Hmmm, well that changes things." He called a serving girl over and ordered a liquor of some kind. Strangely enough he didn't look surprised.  
  
While he waited for his drink I thought about that. The simplest explanation, of course, was that The Client was just very good at hiding his reactions. There was no reason to suspect The Target was a Herald, and I would have found very almost impossible to tail him if I didn't have an aerial spy. At the same time I couldn't help remembering that awful moment when I realized that The Target had a Companion. Red goo is not my color. :Roxy, you know what my problem is? I'm mad, very, very mad. I want to kill him for being such a bloody fool for sending to kill a Herald:  
  
:Hush Boss, you don't even know for sure if he knew The Target is a Herald:  
  
"I take it you, I mean 'she' wants out of the job?"   
  
"Um, yeah. That would be nice. My friend will do anyone who is in the business, but a Herald is way out of her league."  
  
:There goes the rent:  
  
:Shut up Roxy:  
  
The Client, however, had different ideas. "Tell her to keep the money, I may need her later for a job and there is no reason why I can't pay her now."  
  
"Ok, thanks. So now, your turn, what did you find out about those two guys who I talked to the other day?"  
  
He smiled but any warmth his eyes had was gone now. I shivered. "If you aren't going to be doing that job anymore, then why would you need to know?"  
  
I shrugged, "Just curious."  
  
:Uh, Boss?:  
  
:Yeah Roxy?:  
  
:You know how you keep asking me if I Feel any threat from that Herald? And I said I didn't Feel anything from him?:  
  
:Go on:  
  
:I'm Feeling a threat from The Client:  
  
:Hellfires. Ok, thanks Scale-face, I owe you one:  
  
:That's only the 3,498th one you owe me, but who's counting?:  
  
:Shut up:  
  
The Client and me exchanged more polite words while we pretended that I was going to get out of the job scot-free. Hopefully he didn't know that I didn't believe him. He paid the server for his drink, got up and left. I sat there thinking some more.  
  
:Shit Boss, we have the money, lets take it and run. Rethwellan, Seejay, or heck, go back to Jkantha. Go see how your folks are doing:  
  
:They wouldn't take me back, even if they were still alive. You know what I did. If they found out they would kill me. Literally:  
  
:It wasn't your fault, they have to have known that, you were what? Eight, nine years old?:  
  
:Maybe; that's assuming that we can even find them. They could be dead:  
  
I finished my ale and ordered another one while thinking gloomy thoughts.   
  
*********  
  
A little while later a messenger arrived from Kyrtain with a note. She was a kid about the same age I was when I left home, ie about eight or nine. She had brown eyes, a cheerful smile, and her clothing was in good repair, which is unusual for a street urchin. She handed me an envelope, curtsied, and ran off before I could pay her. Weird.   
  
I broke the wax seal, opened the letter, and swore at what I read.  
  
:Roxy, Kyrtain said that The Client and The Grunts were seen talking together at The Red Griffin yesterday:  
  
:Shit:  
  
:Yeah, his informant wasn't able to get close enough to hear what they were saying, but apparently these guys are on friendly terms, like they knew eachother already:  
  
:Bad, very bad. We definitely need to leave the Kingdom:  
  
:Um,: I said, reading the rest of the note, :I'm not sure if we can. Kyrtain said that The Grunts might be part of a spy-ring for Someone Important. He doesn't know who, but he says he isn't going to help us anymore. He doesn't want to get mixed up with what ever is going on:  
  
:Great. Boss, do you think this is involved with the war with Hardorn?:  
  
:How the Hell should I know? I'm just a lowly free-lance assassin, nobody ever tells me these things!:  
  
******  
  
  
  
I suppose I should have invested in some other means of income when I had the money, a restaurant or tenement housing, but at the time I thought I would have all the time in the world to do it later.   
  
Funny how that works isn't it?   
  
If I ever get out of this alive then I swear that I am going to go into a different field. Something less dangerous like boar hunting or herding bulls. I really hate my life.  
  
******  
  
Just to be on the safe side Roxy and I made a rather circuitous rout home. We circled around the city at least once, stopping in various stores and chatting people I knew. I stopped in to say Hi to Reghan, I think she knew something was wrong, but she didn't say anything about it. Sometimes I wonder about her.  
  
Finally after about three hours of me circling back and having Roxy check my path we were sure that no one had followed us we got home. After checking to make sure there weren't any nasty surprises in the house Roxy left to catch something for Cat's dinner while I set up a sand box for her. I made something bland and ignorable for dinner and let my mind go blank while I ate.  
  
After dinner I made a fishing pole with a stick, string, and some feathers from Roxy's dinner and spent a rather enjoyable evening playing with the cat. Then all three of us went to sleep, Roxy on her favorite cushion on my wardrobe, Cat and me on the bed.  
  
****  
  
I'm not sure what woke me up, it couldn't have been a noise, but what ever it was Roxy sensed it too. I peered through her eyes and tried to hear through her ears. Nothing.  
  
:Roxy?:  
  
:Somebody's here, Cat senses it too:  
  
Sure enough, the cat was awake. I pulled out the dagger I always wear and lay still feigning sleep. I still couldn't hear anything, but the silence was the type of silence was you hear when someone was being very quiet, not the kind of silence you heard when there is no one there. My heart pounded painfully and I wondered if the assassin would be able to hear it.  
  
The door ghosted open without a single squeak, the assassin must have oiled the hinges. I wondered briefly who it was and if I had worked with him before. Whoever he was, he was good. I had to be better if I was going to survive this.  
  
Cat's ears pricked up and her head turned toward the door. She jumped out of bed and walked over to the intruder. She purred and through Roxy's eyes I saw Cat rub herself on the assassin's leg. I Felt Roxy growl softly and hushed her with a thought. The cat probably was just being friendly.  
  
The assassin quickly stepped into the room, probably hoping to kill me before Cat meowed and woke me up. Under the blankets I tensed and waited until he was in the middle of the room.  
  
:NOW ROXY!:  
  
As Roxy launched herself from the top of the wardrobe and I launched myself at my assassin. Startled by the unexpected attack he stepped backward and raised his dagger too late to save himself. Roxy bit him in the throat, sending her poison straight to his brain. He gasped and started to choke, but remained in control long enough to throw her off of him and try to stagger to the door. Not taking any chances I slammed him to the floor and slipped my dagger between his ribs and stopped his heart.  
  
****** 


	8. Wicked Tinkers

Disclaimer: I am not Mercedes Lackey. I am not her clone or lost twin sister. I do not own, nor have any right to owning Valdemar and its inhabitants. At all. Only the plot and original characters are my own.  
  
Ch. 8 Wicked Tinkers  
  
:Oh shit Boss, what do we do now?:  
  
:I have no clue: I sat on my bed and blanked out in thought for a minute. When I opened my eyes (which I don't remember shutting) I found myself staring at the dead assassin. Looking at him I felt obscurely guilty, after all he was only doing the same job I had done more then a dozen times. Our positions could easily have been reversed and I couldn't help empathizing with him. That didn't make him any less dead, or make the fact he just tried to kill me any easier. Cat had disappeared in all the excitement. I realized that was going to throw up about ten seconds before I actually did. Did I mention that I hate having people try to kill me?  
  
:Roxy, I think we need to talk to Herald Target:  
  
:Um, Boss? I think that's a really dumb idea. Why don't we just leave the Kingdom?:  
  
:'Cause Scale-Face, I'm really pissed that The Client double-crossed me like that. I gave that guy no reason to even suspect that I was a risk and he still decided to eliminate me! I want him dead:  
  
:What happened to "Mr. Herald, please protect me from my eeeevil Client?": I hate it when she throws my words back in my face.  
  
:I'm not asking them to ~save~ me, all I'm saying is that I have information on something they may be very interested in hearing about:  
  
:Ok,: I could tell she still didn't agree with me, but she also knew there was no way to talk me out of it right now. :What are we going to do with the body?:  
  
:That's another reason to go to the Heralds: I usually murdered my targets in such away that I didn't have to hide the body. Human bodies are some of the most inconvenient things to deal with. They're big, obvious, and after a few days they get really stinky. In a city someone carrying a body around is going to get noticed. Dismembering a body is harder and bloodier then anyone other then a butcher could understand. I could, under the cover of darkness, try to bury it in my backyard but it was already getting toward morning and it would probably take me at least three or four hours to dig a deep enough hole in my garden. I'd have to wait until tomorrow night and then the body would be quite unpleasant to deal with. Burning it was out of the question, that much cooking meat would attract attention from my neighbors. I'd smelt burning bodies before and as long as you don't know what they are they smell quite tasty.   
  
:I could eat him for you: Roxy said from her perch on the top of my wardrobe, where she had returned to after the fight.   
  
:You aren't big enough to eat all of him:  
  
:Ah, come on Boss, just a little bit!:  
  
:No! That's disgusting Roxy. You are not going to eat him!:  
  
:Awww, Boss! There's starving vultures in Karse that wouldn't let him go to waste: She settled down when I shot a glare at her. :Then what are we going to do with him?:  
  
:I am sure that the Heralds, or the Guard, will be able to dispose of him:  
  
:Do you actually think they'll let you get way with murder?:  
  
I snorted and rolled my eyes at her, :The only one they'll know about officially is this guy, and HE attacked ME in my own home. They'll say it was self-defense:  
  
:Boss, think for a minute! What makes you think they'll listen to you in the first place? And do I need to repeat that I really think we should go to Petras?:  
  
:I'll save the Herald from assassination. Simple:  
  
She flicked her wings impatiently at me, :And what makes you think The Client is going to carry through with the plan?:  
  
:The Client sent an assassin after me. Think about it, I don't know who he is, I know he buys sells information, but so do a lot of other people in this town. I don't know enough about his operations to be a threat. The only thing that I do know worth killing me is the fact I know about the plot to assassinate the Herald. That's it. I do have a bit more information than that, but The Client probably doesn't know about it. If I play my cards right the Heralds might even let me eliminate The Client:  
  
:What if they did it tonight?:  
  
I glanced at the candle and noted the time. :If they were going to do it tonight then it's too late to worry about it. We'll check tomorrow to see if Herald Target is still in the Land of the Living. If he isn't ~then~ we'll run:  
  
:Heh, and don't forget The Grunts:  
  
:Oooh, good point. Yeah, the Heralds will definitely want to know about those guys. One more reason to contact them:  
  
She sighed at me and quit trying to argue. I was pretty pleased that I'd managed to answer her arguments more or less to my satisfaction. Well, rather less actually. I wanted The Client, and probably The Grunts as well, dead for what he did. I was angry enough to go against my better instincts, but in a way that was what Roxy was for. Her 'job', if you could say she even had one, was to force me to pay attention to my instincts and if there was something truly wrong with my decision I needed to know about it.  
  
:Sweetheart, are you sensing anything bad about this?:  
  
:No, not really. At least not anything more then what I did earlier. There's still danger, but going to the Heralds doesn't seem to be making it worse. I just think its stupid:  
  
:Roxy, if you really don't want to help you know you don't have to. I don't own you and you can feel free to tell me to go to Hell if I ask you to do something you don't want to:  
  
:Oh, I'm going. Someone has to keep you out of trouble. You can't get rid of me that easily!:  
  
:Thanks Sweetheart:  
  
I dragged the body downstairs and stuffed it in a storage closet, then went back to bed.  
  
It's a good thing I'm used to dead bodies.  
  
*******  
  
Sometimes I have weird dreams.   
  
Tonight I was in a large room with bunch of people sitting in cheap chairs in a big circle, sipping non-alcoholic drinks, and eating slices of cake. I was standing in front of one of those chairs, talking to the people. Somehow I know that all these guys; and they are mostly guys; are also assassins of various types. Here and there I could see a lump that marked a hidden dagger, or the hilt of a sword. I even recognize a few of them. Some of them are my competitors here in Haven, two of them are ones I've killed.  
  
"Hi, my name is Josan and I am and assassin."  
  
"Hi Josan!"  
  
******  
  
:Wake up Boss! A hundred Guards are at your front door, and they all want to duel with you! Gotta get up! A Great Lord wants to ask you about that night you spent with his son! Wakey, wakey! There's a Companion here to Choose you!:  
  
There is nothing like waking up to a flying reptile thundering smart remarks in your head. I rolled over in bed and debated whether or not to ignore her, however, I knew from past experience that she could go from smart remarks to biting if she thought I wasn't getting up when she wanted me to.  
  
:All right Roxy, what is it this time?: I said giving up and getting out of bed.  
  
:Cat had a hairball: she said from her favorite perch.  
  
:Great, just great. You wake me up after a night like last night because the damned cat threw up: I glanced at the time and saw that for once I had slept to noon. Weird, I must have been more tired then I thought.  
  
I cleaned up after Cat and grabbed my pocket notebook. I wanted a complete written record of exactly what had happened and what I had learned in case I really did buy it. Roxy promised revenge, but I knew the more people who knew what was going on the greater the likelyhood that I would get it if I died. I put some of the silver coins in my money belt, which I hid under my shirt. After sealing the notebook in an envelope I packed some essentials, including the rest of the1,000 in silver, put Cat in a crate, and walked to Reghan's. On the way there Roxy and me kept a very sharp eye out for anyone spying on us. We didn't see anyone, but after last night I realized that doesn't mean much. Oh well, it wasn't like I was going to be going back to the house ever again.  
  
"Hey Reghan, can you do me a favor?" I said when I was sure she was alone.  
  
"Depends on the favor." Her sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul and I cringed inwardly. Sometimes it seems Reghan knows more about me then I do.  
  
"It's nothing you would object to, I'm going to be very busy for the next few days and I need someone to watch my cat and the stuff I brought. If I'm not back in two weeks to pick them up the my stuff and the cat are yours, except for the envelope which you should give to a Herald." There, I'd said it. I wondered how she'd take it.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at me, "I thought you didn't do government work."  
  
"Well, yeah. Normally. But sometime Government work does me."   
  
She grunted at me and sighed. "You be careful, whatever it is you're doing. Oh, all right, I'll even take care of the cat." She took the cat and my stuff and went into the back room.  
  
I knew that Reghan wouldn't touch my stuff unless I had been gone for two weeks. She was honest, whatever else she was. I said my goodbyes and left her place, wondering if I was ever coming back.  
  
******  
  
Roxy and me spent the day hiding out in the livestock district. I looked at the horses and wondered if I should get one incase I had to leave town in a hurry. It had been years since I had ridden a horse, however, and that one had been a slowpoke plow horse. In the end I decided not to get one, I didn't know enough about horses to take good care of one and I doubt Reghan would take care of one for me. There's a bit of a size difference between a horse and a cat. Still, they were pretty.  
  
:So Boss, what's the plan for tonight?: Roxy said as she took a perch somewhere on top of the roof of the hay barn.  
  
:We're going to go back to The Broken Arms and wait of Herald Target. Then we'll follow him and hopefully save him when he gets ambushed:  
  
:Um, Boss? Don't you think The Client will have an informant in the tavern? I mean, he was the one who gave us the location in the first place, and what makes you think that he would be attacked after he went to The Arms? Why not before? And why would he go to The Arms? Aren't there other taverns he might visit for information?:  
  
:Uh, yeah. I knew that: I ignored her mental snicker. :Ok, slight change of plans; he can alter his path and his final destination, but he can't alter his starting point:  
  
I thought about that for a minute. He would be starting from the Palace, probably dressed as a Herald. This would allow his Companion to leave with him without causing questions. He would then go somewhere, The Companion's Bell is the most likely choice, and change. Then he would leave by himself, his white horse following close by but still staying hidden. At some point along the way, either to or from wherever he is going tonight, he might get attacked.  
  
:Roxy, I'm going to have you wait for him on the roof of The Companion's Bell, I'll be hiding somewhere close by. When he leaves we'll shadow him to where ever he is going. You'll keep an eye out for his attackers, but stay with in striking distance. I'll be close by, but as I need to avoid the Herald, his horse, and the attackers I might not be able to get real close. Sound good?:  
  
:It still doesn't sound as good as buying a horse, getting our stuff and Cat from Reghan, and leaving for Petras. Rethwellan is supposed to be nice this time of year:  
  
:Seriously Roxy. Is my plan stupid, or do you think its good?:  
  
:It's good, just not as good as leaving is: I shot her a mental Look, :Oh, ok. I guess it's fine. Just don't come crying to me when you get killed:  
  
I glanced at the sun, it was getting on to late afternoon and I didn't want to be late.   
  
*****  
  
A/N Heh, heh, heh. I'm evil. That's where I'm going to leave you guys for a couple of days.   
  
The title for this chapter is the name of my current favorite band. If you think that bagpipe music is both annoying and boring then you have never heard these guys. They are wild, primal, and very, very cool. I was listening to their CD "Bangers for Breakfast" the whole time I was writing this chapter.  
  
Cyanthis, glad you like the story! Could you tell me what the shortcomings are? If you don't want to post them (I don't mind) email me. I don't mind criticism, after the "you're on drugs" remark from my teacher nothing you say could possibly hurt my feelings, and part of the reason I'm writing fanfic is to become a better author. Which I won't unless I find out what my shortcomings are. So fire away! (I have never had anything stronger then two glasses of wine on New Years BTW)  
  
Campion, I ain't stopping until the story is done, and I have at least one sequel trying to write itself in my head already. (No dammit! Not until I've finished this one! ~beats sequel back into cage~) I think I've already left a response in the review board, but basically there is no way Josan is ever going to get Chosen. A Companion would only slow her down and there is nothing a Companion can give her that Roxy can't (except for a ride, but an ordinary horse can do that if she needs one). Josan just doesn't feel that incredible need to help other people, and Valdemar doesn't need her. Her only Gift is Mindspeech, and it's a fairly weak one, kinda on the level that most Hawkbrothers have.  
  
Thanks Rangishran, I'll keep my style the same. If you like it read Steven Brust's Vlad Taltos series, he does it way better then me.  
  
Speaking of Brust, in Chapter 7 I used Devera, one of his characters. She isn't named, but she is the little girl who brought Josan the note from Kyrtain. She's a little girl who has some strange abilities *bg* and is in every one of his books in one form or another, even his non-Dragaera books! Disclaimer: Devera belongs to Steven Brust and not to me. 


	9. The Black Knight

Disclaimer: Valdemar and everything in it belongs to Mercedes Lackey, not me. I'm just playing in her sandbox without her knowledge. Original characters and plot are my own; you may use them only with my permission.   
  
Ch. 9 The Black Knight  
  
:This is going to be interesting:  
  
:Why?: asked Roxy from her perch on the roof of The Companion's Bell.  
  
:This is the first time I've taken a job with the idea of saving the target's life:   
  
:Oh: I got the impression that Roxy was still a bit upset by my decision to save the guy, rather then taking the money and running. She didn't say anything else so I guess she realized it was useless to try to talk me out of it.   
  
I was seated in a small mom-and-pop tavern about two blocks away from The Bell, run by Pa and Ma Stubbert. It was cute, just a few tables in the dinning area, some stools at the bar, and a couple of bashed up but comfortable sitting couches with along the wall, each with a low table to set your beverage of choice on. There was a shelf filled with books that had been donated by some of the regular customers.  
  
The beer was passable, and the wine was fairly ordinary. The food was, however, quite good. Pie, dumpling stew, pasties, and just about every other food that I would ordinarily call 'homemade' if I had ever eaten anything like that at home. Sure, a lot of other places have food like that too, but none cooked it better then Pa Stubbert. Ma served the customers and their daughter Jessie took care of the business side of things. I've been going here for years and it was one of the reasons why I've been gaining weight.   
  
I was sitting at one of the tables eating some of my favorite comfort food, pigeon dumpling stew. It was a good thing Roxy couldn't see me; she always twits me when I break my diet. I suppose it would have been smarter to not eat anything at all, or at least eat a lighter meal, before going into action, but I had forgotten to eat lunch and the hunger was getting to me. You'd think I'd be used to going hungry, but six years of steady meals can sure change a person. I did stay away from the beer, I find even a small amount of alcohol can screw up my reactions enough to get me hurt.   
  
When I finished my bowl I ordered a pot of tea, sat down on one of the couches with it, and then pulled off the reading shelf a book by Paafri that I had read only twice before. One of the most important things you need to learn in order to get through life is how to wait patiently. The tavern was starting to fill up the usual mix of oldsters and middle class working men.   
  
I was about half way through my second pot and about a third of the way through the book when Roxy contacted me.  
  
:Boss, he's here:   
  
:Huh? Who? Oh, yeah. The guy. Thanks Roxy: That relieved one worry of mine, if The Client and his new buddies had offed my target I would have been seriously pissed. :What's he doing?:  
  
:Um, he's going into The Bell's stables. Um, I think he's leaving his Companion in the paddock. Um, yeah:  
  
I sighed, :Roxy, what is it that you aren't telling me?:  
  
:Um, are you sure this guy is a Herald? 'Cause he sure isn't dressed like one.:  
  
:You mean he's in costume already?:  
  
:No, I don't think so. I think he's getting changed into his costume in the stables. He was wearing a set of dark gray clothing:  
  
I groaned, :Don't tell me that thing we ran from the other night was an ordinary white horse!:  
  
:Boss, I know a Companion when I see one. The Target has a Companion, I'm looking at him right now:  
  
I snorted at that. :If he has a Companion then he's a Herald. It doesn't matter what his uniform looks like:  
  
:Whatever you say, Boss:  
  
I put the book back on the shelf and paid for the tea and dinner. Speaking of tea, I found the ladies room and used it before leaving.   
  
Making my way to The Bell was one of the more interesting walks of my life, I could feel the excitement starting to boil in my blood and I wondered if this was going to be better or worse then usual for me. I couldn't wait to finish this, but I knew that the longer it took for the fun part to begin the more chance I would have to calm down. Still, it was all I could do to keep from bouncing in place.  
  
Roxy kept me updated on the position of The Target while I found a convenient alleyway to hide in. I had a clear view of the paddock and stables of The Bell. I could see The Target's Companion, a big stocky fellow that looked as if someone had crossed a plow horse with a Shin'a'in saddle bred in order to get a nice hunter or light warhorse. Like all Companions he was pure white and if I was closer I would have been able to see his crystal blue eyes. Watching him I realized that my day spent hiding out in the horse market hadn't been wasted, I just didn't realize how much I had picked up. The Companion had big, well-defined muscles and strong legs suitable for running, but I knew he could carry a man in full plate armor if he had to. I tried to remember the other Companions I had seen, but I had never really paid that much attention, I was more interested in not getting noticed. The Target's Companion, however, seemed bulkier then I remember those others being. He was definite match for his rider.  
  
If it wasn't for Roxy I would have found it hard to believe that a creature that looks exactly like a horse could have a brain as fully intelligent as a human's. The stallion didn't seem to see me, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The plan wouldn't work if I got caught by Herald or Companion before I planned to be.   
  
A moment later The Target left the stables behind The Bell. It was a good thing Roxy and me had decided to wait for him here rather then at The Broken Arms. It was clear by his dress that he wasn't going to there, wherever he intended to go tonight it was a place where a grown man dressing in near rags would go unnoticed. I hoped for my sake that it wouldn't be too far into the bad part of town, the Exile's Gate neighborhoods were some of the nastiest places to work in. Roxy took off after him, staying hidden high overhead and gave me another running monolog on his position. After a couple of minutes I took off after them.  
  
:Hey, Roxy?: I Mindspoke her. :That's weird. The Target's Companion is staying in the paddock:  
  
:He is? Let me check,: she paused and I imagined her doing a quick circle to the paddock and back. :You're right, the Companion is eating some hay from a manger. That is weird, wasn't he following his Herald the other night?:  
  
:Yeah,: I let that simmer in the back of my mind as I followed The Target further and further out of the nice area of the tavern district toward some of the more disreputable places.   
  
I really oughta get another label for him, seeing as how I wasn't going to kill him after all.  
  
Eventually we came to a rather dark little alley, at the end of which was what had to be one of the worst taverns in Haven. The only way you could even tell that the dilapidated firetrap was a tavern was the fact that it had a tankard nailed over the door. I winced as my Target went inside, I would never set foot in such a place if I could at all help it.  
  
:Lord and Lady! Roxy, how much do you want to be this place uses real horse piss and manure in place of beer and food? Ick, ick, ick. If his mission, whatever it is, brings him here, then I feel sorry for the poor bastard:  
  
:Yeah,: Roxy said from her perch on top of the tavern's roof, :and if this is the type of place he goes to for fun I say screw trying to save him. Lets just put him out of his misery:  
  
:Heh:  
  
I found another convenient corner in another nearby alley. In this part of the town this is easier said then done, most nice dark corners were already staked out by various muggers and free-lance prostitutes. After some searching and a couple of bribes to a pair of ladies of negotiable virtue I found one that was just two blocks away and gave me a good view of the best-to-be-left-nameless tavern. I settled down to wait, it was going to be a long night. It was a good thing the night was warm.  
  
******  
  
Having a reptile as a partner has its ups and downs. For the most part Roxy is very helpful in doing things like helping me spot and follow people, but only if the weather is warm enough. Unlike birds, which are usually able to keep their body temperature constant despite the outside temperature, reptiles have to rely on the temperature of their environment in order to stay alive. Reptiles are even more prone to dying due to chilling then mammals and birds.   
  
Roxy is more warm-blooded then your average snake or lizard, I suppose she has to be in order to fly, however, she is still dependant on the temperature outside to keep her going. If it is cool she gets sluggish and dull and spends the whole day in front of the fireplace. In cold weather she is useless for my line of work, but in warm weather she is priceless.   
  
I don't regret bonding with her, she is my dearest and closest friend, the only person in the entire world that I can depend on. If anything happened to her I don't know what I would do.  
  
I remember one job that I did the winter before last. It was snowing and Roxy had to stay at the house in front of the fire because if she were to spend more then a minute or two outside she would have gone into shock. Usually the winter is our season off because I didn't like operating without my partner, the price I had been offered, however, was too much for me to pass up. So here I was hiding out in an unheated warehouse, waiting for my target to finish checking his stuff and hoping that he didn't have any toughs nearby.  
  
There shouldn't have been any toughs nearby, I had been following my target for weeks, timing his movements and planning when and where I was going to take him, but without Roxy I couldn't tell for sure. She was my extra set of eyes and without her I felt blind.  
  
My target took another crate down and began sorting through it, making sure the exotic recreational drugs that were supposed to be stored inside were actually there. While his attention was turned to the crate and his back was turned to me I stepped silently out of my hiding place and pulled out the garrote I had chosen for this murder. I pulled the wire tight between my hands as I stepped up close to him were he was bent over the crate.  
  
In one swift movement I slipped the garrote over his head and pulled it tight and twisted hard. The crate fell with a thud and he gasped, or tried to, and staggered backwards, trying to claw the wire, but it was far too late. My target went limp as his throat and the delicate bones of his neck were crushed.   
  
"Sir, are you all right?"  
  
And here I thought that the building was empty.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
As quietly as possible I let the corpse fall to the ground, drew a hunting knife, and ducked back into my hiding place. The target's assistant appeared at the door and took two strides into the room before pausing. I guess he must have seen the body. I heard him take a hissing breath as he pulled out his short sword. He was a huge fellow and he handled the sword like he knew how to use it. I knew I had only a couple of seconds before he started yelling for help or searching the room. Without consciously thinking about it I pulled out a throwing dagger and tossed it at him.  
  
If this was a sword-romance or a Bard's play I would have fatally wounded him, but alas, this is real life. In the best circumstances I can only hit a stationary target from that distance seven times out of ten, and only in the bull's eye half the time. This was not the best circumstance. My new target must have seen a flicker of motion in the darkness of my hiding spot because he dodged to my right and my thrown dagger clattered harmlessly out in the hall. He was distracted for a brief instant, but that's all I needed.  
  
I rushed him while he was still trying to get reoriented and ducked under his blindly swung sword. I felt his ribs snap and pop as I slammed the heavy hunting knife into his side clear up to the hilt. The guy gasped and collapsed, but as he went down he took another swing at me and hit my shoulder as I dodged to the left. As he fell he dropped the sword and I managed to kick it aside before he could reach it.  
  
My right arm was numb and I couldn't move it, I was hit hard and needed to finish the kill quickly. I pulled out a stiletto with my left and knelt down next to the guy where he lay curled around his wound. Carefully aiming I hit him in the eye and killed him instantly as the blade pierced his braincase.   
  
Later that night, after I got myself fixed up by a back-alley healer, I went home to Roxy. She was napping on a comfy chair in front of the fire. I stood there for a while, watching her. Then I went to bed, carefully arranging my sling to avoid hurting my arm.  
  
*****   
  
A/N Yes, I know, *another* cliffhanger. I'm evil. So sue me.  
  
Actually this chapter ran on much longer then I thought it would, so I split it up into two chapters. Chapter 10 is more then half way done and will be up in a couple of days. I am not completely evil after all.  
  
Delphine Pryde, Campion, Stee Parker: Thankyou. I will keep posting! Campion Re: your question; check the Review Board as I think I answered it there.  
  
Cyanthis: I will try to make the conversation markers a little clearer, Roxy, unlike a Companion, is going to butt in a lot in Josan's personal life and conversations. (Companions tend to stay out of their Herald's personal business, unless there is no other way to patch things up. Roxy, on the other hand, is an interfering little yenta) I hope the description was better in this chapter, this story is more-or-less a rough draft (I know, bad) and when I am done I will probably go through and re-write it.   
  
AtheneMiranda: The dead body stuff. There is a wonderful book (if you have the stomach for it) call _Dead Men Do Tell Tales_ by a forensic anthropologist, whose name escapes me at the moment, which is full of, ah , *interesting* information on dead bodies and how forensic anthropologist investigates them. 


	10. Run Away! Run Away!

Valdemar, its peoples and cities belong to Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon (they do come as a pair you know). Not me. Original characters and plot are my own.  
  
Ch. 10 Run Away! Run Away!  
  
:Hey Boss? You awake?:  
  
:Um yeah: I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook myself awake. Bad, very bad, falling asleep like that. All that missed sleep last night must be catching up to me, something that could kill me in this neighborhood. :How long has it been?:  
  
:You sure you want me to tell you? I might interrupt your beauty sleep:  
  
:Roxy, I'm warning you:  
  
:Goodness knows you need it:  
  
I sighed, :Cut the chatter and tell me how long it's been:  
  
She sniggered, :'bout an hour Sleeping Beauty:  
  
:Great, now I have a flying-reptile-who-talks-in-my-head sniggering in my head. My life is worthless, the shame, the shame. Cruel World, just let me die in peace:  
  
:Boss! You're getting melodramatic again!:  
  
:What do you mean, getting?:  
  
:Shut up, Boss:  
  
:Heh:  
  
It wasn't much longer after our little exchange that Herald Target left the tavern. It was fairly dark, but I've always had good night sight. While I couldn't see his face or other fine details, I could see his silhouette and body language. I watched him carefully to see if he actually drank the foul brew that gets sold in those types of icky-gross taverns, and if he did whether or not I needed to save him from alcohol poisoning. Occasionally a bad barrel gets sold in places like this and the poor bastards who drink it go blind or worse. Although I could only observe him from a distance Herald Target's movements were smooth and sure, he seemed alert and wasn't staggering down the street. He either had a cast-iron stomach or the floor got the majority of the drink, I suspected the later. No one's stomach was that tough.  
  
Roxy took off after him, keeping level with the rooftops. I shadowed him, keeping to streets running parallel to his path. It was hard enough staying even with the guy on the twisted byways of Haven's most disreputable section with Roxy's help, without her I would have either had to risk alerting him to my presence, or lose Herald Target altogether.  
  
:Boss, right on Waterstreet:  
  
The worst part was trying to keep an eye out for Herald Target's assassins. I'm sure there would be more then one after I made the mistake of telling The Client about the Companion. I just didn't know who it was going to be. Based on the Herald's past performances The Client wouldn't just send a couple of two-bit thugs, the Herald would eat them alive. No man, however good, can stand against ten or twenty times as many opponents all at once. I wondered if Roxy, Herald Target, and me were up to holding off ten to twenty people while waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Heh.  
  
:Left on Willow, Herald Target is on Fishhawk:  
  
:Thanks Roxy: The area was just about what you would expect for Exile's Gate, that is there were few street lanterns and most of the lighting came from the candles in the street walker's windows and the bright full moon. I watched the girls primp and preen for the passing men, this time of night when all the workingmen were going home the ladies of the night might be able to attract a few to make their rent. I pitied and envied them. I didn't need to sell my body to earn a living, but my soul was already damned long before I started killing people for money. The gods probably look more kindly on a prostitute then a kin-slayer and assassin.  
  
:Roxy? Is it just me, or is he not going back to The Companion's Bell?:  
  
:Or the palace. Yeah, I was wondering when you were going to notice that:  
  
:Hmm, he might have a mission tonight. I wonder if someone hired him in his tough-experiencing-hard-times persona or something:  
  
:Awfully convenient if he was:  
  
:Yeah: I felt a tingle of alarm trickle down the back of my neck. :Roxy? Do me a favor and do a circuit for ambushes. I'll keep even with Herald Target and try to get on the same street without him spotting me. I want to be right next to him when the bad guys arrive:  
  
:Will do Boss:  
  
I saw her pass across the moon as I kept scanning for problems. I still didn't see anything out of the ordinary and that worried me. The whores were still plying their trade and the few children on the street looked like they were running errands. Even the drunks were fairly peaceful. I couldn't help feeling that something was out of place. Hellfires, something had been out of kilter the entire time I've had this job.  
  
:Hey Boss! Looks like Herald Target's met up with someone:  
  
:Shit. Thanks Roxy. Keep me updated: I started looking for a way onto his street. In all the twisting and turning I've done following him on this mission I'd gotten separated by more then one block from him. I ducked down the nearest alley, only to find it was a dead end.  
  
:Boss! There's two guys coming up behind him! Hurry!:  
  
:Stay where you are!:  
  
I backtracked two blocks and found another alley. This one dead-ended in a fence with a locked gate. Taking a running leap to scramble over a fence isn't as nearly fun as they want you to believe, but I did it. I felt the old wood of the gate splinter and tear the palms of my hands but I didn't stop. I hit the ground, rolled to my feet, and dashed up another little side street.  
  
:Better hurry! Those two guys are coming up fast! Target doesn't seem to know about them. He's busy talking with the other guy:  
  
I found another twisty little alley, this one heading toward the street Herald Target was on. I slowed down and checked it out before I headed down it. Out on the main street I could see Herald Target talking to a cloaked man, but I didn't spend any time studying them. There were plenty of shadows in the alley and I knew that it would be a good place to set up an ambush. Hopefully whoever it was wasn't expecting me. I stared hard at the dark corners and sure enough there he was. The assassin was watching the main street, probably waiting for a signal from his compatriots. I knew I had only seconds left before they attacked. The Target needed to be warned.  
  
Simultaneously the assassin stepped out of his hiding spot and I felt a blast of rage from Roxy. Flinging a :NO!: at her I raced toward the assassin, dagger already in hand. He heard me and started to turn but it was already too late. I slammed the dagger into his back and felt it slice between his vertebrae. He wasn't dead, but unless he got to a Healer fast he would be crippled for life. I yanked the dagger free and stepped out into the street, just in time to see Roxy dive at one of the attackers.  
  
The Target spun, his sword already unsheathed. Roxy's victim was already down and likely wouldn't be rejoining fight. The man the Herald had been talking too stepped backward and pulled out a long knife. I had just enough time to shout a warning at the Herald before the rest of the gang showed up. About a dozen men appeared out of the shadows and alleys, weapons drawn.  
  
I dashed out of the side alley and in less then a dozen paces I reached the cloak-wearing-man and positioned myself between him and Herald Target, hunting knife in hand. The hood of his cloak was down and his face was fully exposed to the bright moonlight. It was The Client.  
  
"Bastard!" the word exploded out of me. I sensed Roxy's surprise.  
  
"You, or maybe I should say your 'friend' is in deep trouble, assassin," The Client sneered. "Finish your contract and I might let you live."  
  
"Not after what you did, Corpse."  
  
I backed up a couple of steps and risked a quick glance around. The Herald had apparently accepted my presence and was back to back with me, facing half the gang. The rest were gathering around The Client, weapons drawn and waiting for his signal. Roxy was circling low overhead, ready to dive again. I Sent her a quick command to say there, no matter how poisonous there wasn't much one little flying lizard could do against this number. Unfortunately I knew the chances of her listening to me were slim.  
  
The Client smiled, hefted his knife and backed up until his thugs were between him and me. "Finish them."  
  
I swallowed against a dry mouth as the gang moved in. "Hey, Herald? You gonna call your Companion anytime soon?"  
  
The only reply I got was a grunt.  
  
:Boss, I think that's a Yes:  
  
I didn't have time to tell her to shut up because the thugs had arrived. The first one went down under my knife and I tossed throwing dagger into another one's throat. After that they were a little more careful. I was never very good in a one to one fight, preferring the element of surprise to do most of my dirty work, and five to one odds didn't make it any better.  
  
I ducked under the next blade and sunk my hunting knife into the attacker's arm but couldn't avoid the sword blow that smashed me down to the ground. I was lucky the thug only hit me with the flat of his blade and not the edge, otherwise I would have been split in two. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a sword whip out and remove the thug's head.  
  
Despite my blurring vision I scrambled to my feet just in time to dive again as another attacker tried to knife me. Said attacker tripped and if I had been alert I could have knifed him on his way down, but my head was still ringing from the sword blow. This is called not being in top form. I managed to kick him in the balls hard enough that he wouldn't be doing anything for a while, and whirled to see that the Herald was fighting off three of the thugs at the same time. A flicker of movement to the left alerted me and I found that two other guys were moving in towards me. I fought the first two off, but knew it was only a matter of time before they wore me down.  
  
I saw another flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and barely had enough time send a cry for help. I saw, or perhaps felt, Roxy stoop at him with the speed of a falcon and suddenly I felt a blaze of pain under my right arm ~wing?~  
  
I must have cried out because the Herald whirled again and cut at one of my attackers but I didn't see the blow. Everything was red with anger. Red with the pain that blazed from the wound that was not mine. I was a mindless whirlwind of rage and pain and death, all thought and fear and compassion evaporated like snowflakes in the firestorm of Hell.  
  
When it stopped I found myself standing in the middle of a group of corpses, with no idea if the Herald or I made them. That didn't matter.  
  
All I could see was Roxy  
  
~Elric~  
  
lying on the cobbles. Blood  
  
~in the mud, blood and worse~  
  
pouring from her side where the thug had cut her.  
  
~from his belly where Garth had gutted him alive~  
  
I saw her golden eyes, now glazed with pain  
  
~heard his whimpering, he was in too much agony to cry~  
  
and reached for a handkerchief  
  
~for the knife they gave me~  
  
to stop the bleeding.  
  
~to end my brother's pain~  
  
I heard a non-human scream of rage and looked up to see two Companions charging toward us, while the rest of the gang fled. One had a male Herald, the other was riderless. Both wore saddles. Herald Target said something to me but for some reason I couldn't understand the words, their order and accent were all wrong. He cursed in some foreign language, and threw me onto the riderless Companion's back, which I now recognized as the warrior- stallion I had seen earlier at the Bell's paddock. Before I could protest at being separated from Roxy he handed her up after tying the handkerchief as tight as he could around her wounded side, then mounted up behind me. Suddenly we lurched forward into a gallop and I would have fallen and dropped Roxy if the Herald hadn't grabbed my belt.  
  
"Alberich, what happened?" shouted the other Herald over the peculiar ringing sound of the Companion's hooves.  
  
"Not the time is, now. We must to the Healers go."  
  
We raced on into the night.  
  
******  
  
A/N Boy, fight scenes are hard to write! If anyone knows a webpage or book that has 'how to write fight scenes' I would be deeply grateful. He he he, my grammar check program *hates* Alberich. Poor thing ~pats computer~ its only going to get worse for it, poor dear. Chapter title comes from Monty Python. Steven Brust also used it as a chapter title in Dragon.  
  
Campion. Yes, I guess I really am pure evil. Nothing but evilness inside of me. I could better Sauron or any other Dark Lord (or Lady) you could name in Evilness. Get used to it. I follow the Lackey formula for success, get the reader to really like and closely identify with the main character, then drop a mountain on that character. If you can't be Evil to your characters and readers, then who can you be Evil to? (well, I guess there's my family and friends, but they are immune to me by now) 


	11. Filing For

As you know I didn't like the way I did the chapter the first time. I re- did it, and I am much happier with what I got. Please read this one and tell me what you think.  
  
For those who don't live in the US, you declare bankruptcy by filing for chapter 11. I couldn't pass it up!  
  
Disclaimer: Valdemar, Velgarth, and everything in them belong to Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. I own only my original characters and story, nothing else. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only, no money has been or will be made from it.  
  
(Filing for) Ch. 11 Rev. 1.1  
  
Once in awhile there is a really bad day when a huge rock falls out of the sky and smacks you right between the eyes. Usually this may only happen once or twice in a person's lifetime. Me, on the other hand, I get to have it happen to me on a semi-regular basis. If it isn't being forced to kill my own brother, it's my partner and the love of my life almost killing herself taking a cut meant for me. I have mentioned to you how much I hate my life, haven't I?  
  
All I could feel was Roxy lying limply in my arms. All I could see was the blood, black in the moonlight, seeping through the hastily made bandage. All I could hear was the constant chiming of the Companions' hooves and my own harsh breathing. My entire world was Roxy, was her wound and the slowly seeping blood that soaked her bandage.  
  
I have no longer have any idea how long it took to get to the Palace. I retain the impression of twisting streets, pools of light in the dark streets, and the Herald's hand gripping my shoulder. At some point we must have passed through the Palace gates and into the grounds. Around about then I realized that we had slowed down to a canter.  
  
As the Companions dropped to a stately walk large building appeared in front of us. Herald Target helped me dismount with Roxy then turned to the other Herald and started talking to him in a low voice as we entered the building.  
  
Herald Target rang a bell and within moments a couple of Healer Trainees dressed in a light green uniform appeared. Target told them that I needed a Healer and the boy ushered me to a room just off the main hallway as the girl dashed off down the hall. I glanced back once and saw that Herald Target was standing in the hall talking to the other Herald.  
  
The room typical Healer's room of the legal type I've seen once or twice. There was a table in the center to examine a patient, there were a set of shelves containing herbs and things, and a basin and jug of water in the corner for scrubbing on a counter. I set Roxy down on the table while the Trainee walked around lighting some bright lamps. He visibly started when he saw her, I guess the boy must have just assumed that she was a bundle of cloth. I glared at him when he glanced curiously at me but was saved from explaining when the girl Trainee showed up with an adult Healer in tow.  
  
The Healer was young, just a few years older then I am, but already she had that "I'm an expert in my field" look that I hate. The Healer was wearing the usual set of Greens that all fully trained Healers wear, which were a much darker version of the Trainees uniforms. She introduced herself as Healer Aviana and then gave me a look of confusion that graded into irritation. "Well, you are clearly all right, unless there is an injury I can't see. I don't like being called out for frivolous reasons in the middle of the night."  
  
Something snapped. The next thing I knew I had the Healer up against the wall with a knife pointed at her left eye. "Look you little bitch, my friend is not a 'frivolous reason'. I can see why they have you on night watch, to cover for the real Healers." The Healer seemed mesmerized at the sight of the blade hovering an inch from her eyeball.  
  
"Wha - what friend?" she stammered.  
  
Oops.  
  
"Uh..." I felt a hand on my wrist, holding back my knife hand. I tried to twist away, and found I couldn't. I'm strong, but nowhere near as strong as whoever had my wrist.  
  
"Her creature a Healer needs." The Target said from somewhere over my head. I let the Healer go and stepped back, almost bumping into to the Herald. He glared at me like a hawk, but didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The Herald let go of my hand now that I no longer threatening to kill someone and allowed me to pull away, but kept himself positioned between me and the others.  
  
The Healer, now that she had a patient to care for, was completely ignoring us. She took the bandages off Roxy and examined the wound. The lips of the cut had pulled away and for the first time I saw the extent of Roxy's injury. The cut ran from the her keel bone, cutting deep across her large flight muscles, and up diagonally across her flanks to her back. Gleaming white against the dark red black blood were the delicate lines of her ribs. Some were broken, smashed by the force of the knife cut. I wonder just how much blood a reptile has and how much they can afford to lose.  
  
The Healer covered Roxy's injured side with her hand and did something, what I don't know but it was probably some of that magic only Healers can do. She seemed deep in concentration and sweat appeared on her brow. Surprisingly Herald Target stepped up to her, grabbed her shoulder, and seemed be trying to help her Heal Roxy by the shear force of will. Who knows what sorts of weird abilities Heralds have, maybe he was.  
  
I felt dizzy, weak, as if something was bleeding my strength away. I closed my eyes and tried to block the flow of energy from me to wherever it was going.  
  
"Don't fight it."  
  
I jerked upright and stared at the Healer. She appeared to be completely oblivious to the world, especially to me. "What?"  
  
"I said don't fight it," yes, she really had spoken. "Healing takes energy not just from the Healer, but also the patient, you are bonded to her and she needs you now more then ever. So don't fight the pull."  
  
Now that I knew what the pull was I realized that it was coming from the little part of my soul that had ceased being empty the moment I found her abandoned as a hatching out in the middle of the Pelagir Hills. I sat down on the floor and focused my attention on allowing as much energy to flow through my link to Roxy as she needed.  
  
At long last the Healer finished doing whatever it was she was doing and pulled her hand away from Roxy's wound. The flow of energy stopped, leaving me drained and more exhausted then I already was. I shook my head to clear it then pulled myself to my feet, determined not to show how fatigued I was.  
  
As I walked over to the table, the Herald dropped his hand and stepped back, keeping a careful eye on me, I guess he still didn't trust me. Roxy's wound had completely closed and was now a dark red line marring her scales. Amazing, in the past when I had been injured the Healer had only stitched me up, I'd never seen a really Healing before.  
  
I swallowed nervously as Healer Aviana re-bandaged the wound, "Careful, her bite is highly venomous. She's unconscious but if she woke up and bit you, you could die."  
  
The Healer turned and gave me a glare that was less menacing but more intimidating then the Herald. It was full of fear-turned-to-anger and I knew that she wasn't going to forget tonight's little incident. I looked at the kids who were huddling in a corner as far as they could get away from me, neither of them would meet my eyes. Looks like I scared them. The Herald continued to glare at me and I wondered if I should have just kept my nose in my own business and let him die. Ah well, nothing I can do about it now. I'm just making lots of new friends today aren't I?  
  
"Thank you," she said icily, "is there anything else I should know?"  
  
I bit my lip, "Thank you for saving Roxy's life. And I, ah Hellfires. I hate saying 'I'm sorry', but I guess that's what I'm trying to say." I rubbed the back of my neck as I sought out words to explain. I glanced at the kids again, and saw that the girl had a tear streaked face. Now I felt really bad. "Oh, shit." I said, giving up.  
  
The Healer's eyes narrowed, "We'll talk about this later."  
  
I tried to look harmless. It would have worked too, if I hadn't been threatening to kill her minuets before. Silly me. Heh.  
  
She stared at me a minute longer and then harrumphed. "Well," the Healer said, changing the subject, "Your friend, Roxy I think is what you said her name was, is out of danger, but it will be awhile before she's fully recovered."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
She nodded. "The energy for a Healing comes from two places, the Healer and the patient. I can only Heal so much, if I use too much of my own Gift I will go into shock, and Healing a small animal requires as much energy from me as a human being. Alberich," she nodded to the Herald who was watching us with the wariness of a well trained guard dog, "was able to feed me some extra energy."  
  
I pretended that I wasn't going to fall down with exhaustion. "And what about her?"  
  
"You were able to feed her a great deal of energy through your link, but there is only so much you can do. If I Healed her too much I could have sent her into shock, or you." Somehow I got the impression that she wouldn't have minded sending me into shock. "I don't want to do more without knowing more about her species."  
  
"And no one knows what her species is." I said bitterly.  
  
Aviana raised her eyebrows, "Not even you?"  
  
"Not even me," I barked out a humorless laugh, "and not even her."  
  
Everyone in the room gave me an odd look, the Healer, the Herald, and the Trainees. I turned my back to them, trying to fight back tears. It was my fault Roxy was injured, just as it was my fault my brother was dead. If I hadn't called to her I would have taken the cut, not her. I'm bigger, I can sustain more damage.  
  
And if angst made the world go 'round, I would be spinning it like a high speed lathe.  
  
Heh.  
  
There is no point in dwelling on the past. I can't change it and doing so would only make me miserable. I repeated that to myself several times.  
  
I wiped my eyes and turned around when I was sure that I wasn't going to start crying again. "What I do know about her is that Roxy is a reptile and she needs warmth, and when she wakes up she'll need to eat. This room is too cool for her, is there anywhere else we could put her?"  
  
After all that excitement the Trainees didn't want to help, and I can't say I blame them. Healer Aviana probably didn't want to help, but she also wasn't going to let her patient get substandard care either. At first she wanted to take Roxy down to where they keep the other animal patients, but when I learned that meant putting Roxy in a cage I nearly lost it again. If it wasn't for Herald Alberich, whom I suspect was playing bodyguard for the Healer, I would have really nailed her. As it was I barely restrained myself and I don't think either of them realized just how close I came to causing more mayhem. Well, maybe Alberich did. He looked like the kind who would.  
  
If it seems that I'm being awfully glib about this little learning experience of the ways of Life, it's because this whole thing happened several years ago and as I am currently writing this Roxy is across the room sharing a pheasant with her new friend and making various witty comments that I am not going to repeat as virgin eyes might be reading this; needless to say she doesn't remember any of this happening until, well, I'll leave that for a little later.  
  
Ah, fun with run-on sentences. But back to my personal history.  
  
Finally after much discussion we got set up in a private room designed for sick babies and their mothers. There was a baby cradle that could be heated and didn't rock for Roxy, and a bed for me. We tucked her in and the Healer checked her bandages once more, everything looked fine.  
  
Healer Aviana then checked us over, apparently me and the Herald had picked up some minor cuts that neither of us noticed. I'm not sure what his excuse was, stoicism perhaps, but I had been too concerned with the state of my partner to pay attention to my own body.  
  
That bed looked so tempting. Between my shorted sleep last night, my late night tonight, and Roxy's Healing, I was fair exhausted. Just as I was contemplating kicking everyone else out and curling up on the bed I felt a hand grip my shoulder. It was the Herald.  
  
"We need to talk, you and I."  
  
He pulled me out into the hall and all but forced marched me to an empty waiting room. I sat down in one of the chairs, facing him with the door to my left. Strange, he seemed to have deliberately left me an escape rout. He pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards, resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair. We eyed eachother like two street curs trying to decide who gets the bone. He didn't even look tired, and I wondered what it would take to make him show exhaustion. Probably a battlefield, if that. Heh. I looked around, spotted a pitcher of water and poured myself a glass.  
  
"Why," he asked slowly and deliberately as I sat back down again, "did you help me?"  
  
"Huh," I didn't think he'd Truth Spelled me yet, but the only way to test it would be to lie, and I got the impression that lying would be a very bad move with him. I took a sip of water and tried to pull my thoughts into semi-coherence. "I've got a question for you. How much can I tell you without getting into trouble?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Crimes you have committed, trouble you would get into for?"  
  
I had to take a moment to untangle that. I guess he was more tired then he let on. Or maybe I was more tired then I wanted to admit to myself. "Yeah, and before I tell you anything I need to know if I'm going to get arrested for them."  
  
He seemed to think for a moment, or perhaps he was speaking to his Companion. I just hoped the both of them knew how to keep their mouths shut. " 'Assassin' you were by the gang leader called. The crimes you have committed include murder?"  
  
I looked at him, pointedly keeping my own mouth shut.  
  
The Herald leaned forward and rested his chin on his arms, "Not in uniform am I, things that are said by you unofficial are. No more I can grant you."  
  
I guess that's as good as I was going to get. "About a week and a half ago I was hired to take out a tough who went by the names Knives, Jask, and Jendar."  
  
"Me, in other words."  
  
"Yeah, but I didn't know you were a Herald. I wouldn't have taken the job if I had. I don't do kids, I don't do government work, and I don't do windows."  
  
He ignored my lousy attempt at humor, "Go on."  
  
"The guy who hired me was the guy you identified as the gang leader. He probably wasn't their real leader by the way, more likely he was a client. I don't know the guy's name, but I think he's one of the crimelords for the Exile's Gate neighborhood."  
  
"Talk about this later, we will."  
  
"Um," I didn't like the sound of that. Oh well, I got myself into this... "Well, The Client paid me the standard fee, so I was bound to the job. It took me a few days, I researched you but kept coming up blank, probably because I didn't think to look up the records on the Heralds. Not that I would have been allowed to see them. While I was researching you I got approached by two guys, who as it turned out, also wanted you dead. They offered about six times the standard fee."  
  
The Herald sat up at that, interested. "Describe them."  
  
I shrugged, "The didn't look like much, a couple of thuggish looking sell- swords. They looked like someone's muscle, but they didn't act like it. They acted like the brains of their operation."  
  
"An accent they have?"  
  
"Uh," I tried to remember, "I don't think so, at least no more then your average Valdemaran."  
  
"Accept you, this job?"  
  
I sniffed, "Being greedy is a quick way to a slow death. No, I turned them down."  
  
"Even though the two jobs were for the same victim?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
I shrugged, "Good question. And the answer is 'I don't know.' I just had a bad feeling about it."  
  
I sighed and continued, "In fact I've been having bad feelings about doing you almost from the first moment, but it wasn't until two nights ago did I find out you were a Herald." I snorted, "If your Horse hadn't shown up when he did you would have been dead."  
  
He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.  
  
I wished Roxy was awake. I swallowed, "I tried to back out of the deal, and found I couldn't. The Client sent an assassin after me last night."  
  
"So revenge for this insult you decided to take. My life to save you did. I wonder why."  
  
I snorted. "They weren't going to let me out of the city alive. And those two guys looked like they had connections to something else. And I don't let people screw around with me. I'm not a stupid as I look."  
  
He grunted. "Disarm."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Disarm," he repeated. "Assassin you are, for so you have told me. Armed inside the palace grounds you will not be. Stay in your quarters with a guard at the door unless I or another appointed by me is with you. We will speak more tomorrow."  
  
He escorted me back to the room and watched as I pulled out every one of my knives and other weapons. I think I impressed him a little, it was quite a pile. Sometime during this the other Herald reappeared with a young man dressed in a gray uniform that had the same cut as the Herald's white one. The young man looked like he was in his late teens and looked like he knew what he was doing. I found out later that he was a final year Herald Trainee, and that such were usually assigned as servants/guards when strict confidentiality was needed. At the time I didn't really care. The two grown up Heralds left with the young man stationed at the door, taking my pile of interesting weapons with them, although they were nice enough to leave my eating knife behind. I guess Herald Target didn't want to be totally rude to me or something, or it might have been because the eating knife was small and rather dull. It was the only one I showed much in public and I didn't want random people to know that I knew what to do with a knife. Or something.  
  
Feeling more naked then I had in years I fell into bed, sure that it was going to take me forever to fall asleep. It was with great surpass then that I was waken up then next morning by Healer Aviana coming in to check on Roxy.  
  
****  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm in the process of transferring everything to my new laptop (exude me "Notebook" even though it looks like a laptop to me) and I found out that yes, there are word processors that don't have spell checks! I thought that was a myth. Its a good thing I'm usually a good speller. Gah. New technology, gotta love it 'cause it's useless as a fur rug.  
  
Darkfyre: Yeah, I admit that the target could have been more subtle, maybe by using an OC trained by Alberich, or using Skiff or something. But I like Alberich. I said I didn't know what she was because I wasn't sure which backstory to use. I've decided finally and am working on it, she's native to Velgarth, and Velgarth has no 'true' dragons. So there :P. I am also very familiar with firelizards, and trust me, Roxy's nothing like them. She's much more closely related to Steven Brust's jheregs, which are *not* dragons either. She *isn't* dragonkin, she's a reptile (NOT a lizard, her 'type' of reptile doesn't exist in our world), and cold blooded in much the same way sea turtles are (ie, is able to keep her body temp above ambient, but not control it to the extent that a bird or mammal can). She's about the size of a female adult iguana, ie about 4 feet long, mostly tail! However, she is much more flexible then an iguana. Her metabolism is also unusually high for a reptile, she eats a whole pigeon every three days (a similar sized hawk eats one a day). During the winter her species would naturally hibernate in burrows, because she's living inside and has access to higher temps during the winter Roxy never really hibernates, although she does get drowsy and doesn't eat much. I'm working on her species' backstory, I'm not going to say much other then to say that they aren't natural! 


	12. More Talk

Valdemar, Velgarth, and anything else you recognize belong to Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. Only the original characters and plot are my own and may not be used without my permission. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and no money has been or will be made from the production of this story.  
  
Ch. 12 More Talk and Tea.  
  
I am in my weird dream again. I stand in front of a circle of chairs, which are filled with the usual assortment of assassins and bounty hunters, it is sometime hard to tell the difference, and sometimes there is no difference. They are mostly men; women are not often drawn to my profession. I note the various bulges and hilts that indicated weapons both hidden and not. The three or four women present, other then myself, bear few weapons, and I know without asking that they operate with women's weapons, poison and words, weapons that I prefer not to use. I am dressed as the men, in plain trousers, shirt, and vest; my assassin's cloak was hanging with all the others by the door.  
  
Even among a group of my so-called peers I am different.  
  
A thought like that would make the average human feel alone, but strangely enough I don't. My dream-self doesn't understand, or care, why I don't feel alone, and have never felt alone for years and years, but my watchful waking-self understands perfectly. Roxy was back.  
  
***********  
  
It's a common conceit among those who write sword-play or social romances to spend a great deal of paper and ink describing such mundane things as breakfast, bathing, or the clothing one receives from others in such circumstances. Great detail is given to the color of the clothing or the ingredients of the breakfast. Much subtle humor is used to show the layers and intricacy of social discourse, or the danger of the previous scene by describing the rents and tears in various items of clothing. I guess those novels are quite popular, authors keep writing them, and people keep buying them.  
  
Me, I don't buy those books. There's nothing more boring then a 'picking out curtains' scene and I'm not sure why anyone would want to read them. So I'll give you the short version. Healer Aviana woke me up to check Roxy. I ate something, got washed up, dressed in some random clothing a baby Healer brought me, and got a note from Herald Targ, er, Alberich that said he wanted to talk to me again. Oh joy.  
  
Aviana was still angry about last night and I was too embarrassed to apologize. So I glared at her. She glared back at me. She looked like she was about to say something I would regret and I got ready to fire something even stupider back at her when Roxy chose to interrupt us both by waking up. She's always saving my ass.  
  
She stirred and tried to stretch her wings, the left one went out all the way just fine, but she pulled the right one in with a whimper as it stretched her wounded side.  
  
"Are you all right Scaleface?"  
  
: Hellfires, Boss. Some thug with a knife cut my side, what do you think? :  
  
A big grin stretched across my face, "I think you are one lucky lizard."  
  
Aviana looked surprised, "She uses Mindspeech?"  
  
: No, but I'm really good at cold reading: There was a distinctly sarcastic flavor to Roxy's mindvoice.  
  
I ignored that remark. "Yes she does," I told the Healer.  
  
"Humph, well tell her to take it easy. I Healed most of the damage, but its going to be a couple of weeks before she can do much, maybe longer if her metabolism is like other reptiles I know."  
  
: Great, just great. What I'm I supposed to do, lie around in this cradle all day long for the next, what, three weeks?:  
  
"Don't worry about it," I told Roxy, "if worse comes to worse I can carry you around in a baby sling."  
  
:Shut up, Boss:  
  
I ordered breakfast for Roxy, a boned and plucked pigeon seasoned with bonemeal, and stood over her until she ate it all. Then I had a basin of warm water sent in and watched her soak in it. The Healer took notes on what I did with Roxy, I guess incase they get another flying reptile as a patient or something, and then left the room.  
  
We were alone.  
  
I watched Roxy soak, she rested her head on the edge of the basin with her eyes half closed and she looked like she was ready to go back to sleep. She looked so tiny and fragile just then. No bigger then a small cat, if you don't include her tail or wings, and clearly very exhausted. It was going to take days for her to recover her strength. I had come very close to losing her, a fact that I didn't want to admit to myself, and I realized that there was nothing I wouldn't do to prevent her from ever being injured again.  
  
Something was bothering me, more then just how close I came to losing her. Something had been bothering me since the night we tried to take the Herald (before we knew he was a Herald), and it wasn't the fact that we got double crossed. It had something to do with Roxy, something to do with her hanging around the Companion's Field, without telling me. Actually I realized whatever it was had been going on much longer then that. The pets, visiting the Companions' Field, were all symptoms of a bigger problem. I couldn't believe it took me so long to figure it out.  
  
:Sweatheart, what's wrong?:  
  
She sighed and looked at me, :Whadaya mean?:  
  
:You trying to keep pets, visiting the Companion's Field and listening in on them. It took me forever to realize it. I've been neglecting you haven't I?:  
  
:No, not really, you've been awful busy with stuff. I understand:  
  
I sensed that she wasn't being totally forthcoming. :Are you sure?:  
  
:Well,: she sighed again and pulled herself out of the bowl, :no, not really.:  
  
I waited patiently; her reply was not long in coming.  
  
:Boss, I know you don't have a lot of friends here, :  
  
:Who needs friends?: I interrupted, :I have you:  
  
:Yeah,: Roxy sniggered, :I don't think you *do* friends. But that doesn't matter, even if you don't have friends you do have lots of acquaintances and you live in a city full of thousands of humans. I just have you:  
  
She sighed again. :Sometimes at night I wake up, and you're asleep. I reach my mind out without thinking, expecting, I guess, to Hear someone else. Someone like me. My species, whatever that is. Sometimes I Hear the Companions, occasionally a Herald or a stray Mindspeaker. But I never Hear anyone like me: She looked at me and I realized that she had dropped all of her masks. It hit me like a punch to the gut. She was lonely.  
  
"And until last night you couldn't even let people catch more then a glimpse of you, let alone talk to you." I felt so stupid. I had been oblivious to one of my partner's very basic needs, worse then oblivious actually, since I should have figured out the problem years ago. I don't even know how long Roxy's species lives, most animals her size live about fifteen years at best, and she was already ten.  
  
:I have been neglecting you. Scaleface, when this is over how about you and me go to the Pelagir Hills and find your kin, all right? :  
  
:Yeah Boss, I'd like that:  
  
:And in the meantime, the Heralds and Companions know about us now, so there's no point in hiding. Tomorrow, if you feel up to it and the Healer allows it, and the weather is nice, why don't you spend sometime in the Companion's Field, actually talking to them?:  
  
:Yeah,: she said as she drifted off to sleep, :sounds real nice...:  
  
********  
  
[A/N] Sorry for not updating this earlier. I have the next chapter half written so if I don't flake out again I'll be able to post it in a few days. Hopefully I'll be getting away from the angst soon, and back to the wisecracking.  
  
Side note, in Feb. I'll be leaving for six months for an internship with the Hawaiian Endangered Bird Conservation Program's (gad, that's a mouthful) breeding center on Maui. Room, board, and $100 a week for slave labor. Not bad really. (don't kill me!) I'll either have more time to write, or less internet access to post. Or both. I don't know yet. I'll keep writing and if I can't post my fic then you'll probably get a lot in August. Um, I'll put that in my bio too.  
  
Side note #2. Read Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics (they're in TPB). Even if you 'don't like' comics. I am dead serious. They are some of the best Fantasy out there. Totally awesome. 


	13. Carrot and Stick

Chapter 13, The Carrot and the Stick (i.e. the Tenth Attempt)  
  
Yes folk, the title says it all. I have tried at least **10** different ways to write this chapter. Hope this is the one that takes. Sorry to take so long. Heh. On with the show!  
  
Disclaimer: Valdemar, Velgarth, and all Canon Characters are the properties of Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. I am using them without the original authors' consent or knowledge. Only the plot and original characters are mine and may not be used without my permission.  
  
_The day was bright and sunny, but an invisible cloud seemed to hang overhead.  
  
My older brother taught me how to fish and poach rabbits.  
  
There were at least ten different butterflies types of butterflies that lived on my parent's farm, four of which I have not seen anywhere else. I miss them.  
  
I wonder if I'm a dead woman walking? I wonder if I'm going to get paid if I survive this.  
_  
Have you ever noticed when one is bored or scared or feeling guilty, or maybe all three, how your mind runs in circles and refuses to focus on any one thing? Well, maybe yours doesn't do that, but mine sure does. Thoughts of my brother and butterflies and 'Lord and Lady what have I gotten myself into' kept interrupting any useful line of thought I might have had. Blah.  
  
From what I could see out the window it was a nice spring day, with flowers and butterflies and a couple of pretty white horses grazing oh-so-casually in the garden just outside my window. I guess The Herald didn't trust me, and frankly had I been in his position I wouldn't have trusted me either. After all I was a self-admitted assassin on Palace Grounds, never mind that I had saved Alberich's life. It seemed strange to me that there were no Royal Guards around, however. Trying, and failing, to figure out the reason for their absence kept me nicely entertained while Roxy dozed and I waited for The Herald to get back.  
  
I bet that, whatever happens, this was the end of my career as an assassin. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Killing people was all I knew how to do. I liked the planning and the hunt, and the money wasn't half-bad, but the killing itself was something I could do without, I guess. I killed out of greed, not need. Some people might that that the former was worse then the latter; but I wasn't one of those people.  
  
Someone knocked at the door, and being the curious sort I bade them the come in. Unsurprisingly it was The Herald and with him was another Herald, this one a pretty petite brunette with a heart shaped face and a sweet smile, on Alberich's other side was a rather ordinary-looking man who looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn't place where I've seen him before. I smiled at them, and tried to hide how nervous I was. I think I might have fooled the two men, I can be pretty good at hiding my emotions when I want to, but somehow I don't think I fooled the woman, given the sharp look she gave me.  
  
The Herald gestured toward the woman, "Lady Talia this is, the Queen's Own Herald." I nodded to her and swallowed a sudden spurt of panic. I wasn't entirely sure what the Queen's Own actually did, but one thing I did know was that this Herald was one of the most important people in the Kingdom. Why she would want to talk to me I had no idea. The Herald Alberich (I guess I should start referring to him by his real name, given that there is more then one Herald in the room. Heh) paused for a second and I got the impression he was waiting for me to say something, but for the life of me I couldn't think of what to say. He continued, gesturing to the other man, "and one of the Lord Marshal's agents this is, call him Gavin you may."  
  
"Um, pleased to meet you both," I managed to sputter out after a minute. "I take it you guys want to talk to me?"  
  
Lady Talia gave me a warm smile, "If that's all right with you."  
  
"Um," I glanced back into the room. Roxy was still sound asleep in her cradle, and I didn't want to wake her up. "Fine, but let's talk somewhere else, Roxy's still asleep and she had a hard day yesterday."  
  
Herald Alberich nodded sharply and headed down the hall again. I followed and found myself walking next to the Lady, close enough to stick a knife in her if I wanted to, and if I actually had a knife. Weird, the things you think about when backed into a corner. I wondered vaguely what her Gifts were, and whether or not she was using them at the moment. If Roxy were awake she could probably tell if someone was reading my mind, and her temporary absence ached and reminded me how close I came to losing her altogether, all for a Gods-damned Herald. I glared at Alberich's back.  
  
"So," said Lady Talia, breaking the silence, "how did you meet your friend?"  
  
"Huh?" I said brightly, "oh, the usual place one meets weird species unknown to Man." She looked at me blankly and I bit back a sigh, "The Pelagir Hills," and told her the story.  
  
"Well, it does seem that you two were destined to be together," she commented when I was done, ignoring the way I grimaced at the word 'destined'. Personally I think we make our own destinies. "But why were you in the Pelagirs in the first place?" she asked. I grimaced again; the part of my life pre-Roxy was not something I wanted to talk about.  
  
"Heh. You ever hear of a group of scum called 'Garth's Raiders'?" I asked in return.  
  
She nodded, "Rumor has it that Ancar hired them when the Mercenary Guild refused to work for him."  
  
"That doesn't surprise me. From what I hear Garth is exactly the kind of scum Ancar would like." I paused for a moment and became aware of two things, the first was that we had come to the room Alberich had questioned me in the previous night, and the second was that the two men were listening in on my conversation with the Lady. Well enough, it probably wouldn't hurt for them to hear this bit of personal history. I continued, "Well, Garth is your average non-Guild mercenary scum. Vicious as hell and greedy to boot, he'd sell his own mother for dog meat if he thought he could make a profit."  
  
I took a deep breath, funny how after all these years I still felt the rage and helplessness at what Garth had done to me and my kin. You would think that I would have been able to let go of it by now, hate being such a worthless emotion to me. "Well Garth wasn't any different then the usual bandit-cum-merc, except he came up with the brilliant idea of 'recruiting', for lack of a better word, kids. Most, like me and my older brother Elrich, were kidnapped, and a few, mostly orphans, joined voluntarily." I stared down at the floor and came to the realization that I was sitting in a chair. When did that happen? It disturbed me that I could be so oblivious to my surroundings, especially surrounded by folks who were on the other side of the law from me.  
  
"You see, Garth had realized that a kid can kill a man nearly as easily as an adult. More-over kids are easier to control, and they don't usually ask to be paid when they are forced at knife-point to slaughter a village. And once a kid kills it's easy to convince them that they won't be accepted back by their family. It's easier to recruit children then it is adults, and if they die, who cares? There's always more where the last ones came from. And if they get caught, well in most places the law won't treat them any different then an adult. Getting hanged as a bandit isn't fun." I barked out a humorless laugh that sounded unnatural even to my ears, "And if they don't kill for him, then Garth would gut them, alive. Like he did my brother. Damned if you do, damned if you don't."  
  
Lady Talia reached out and touched my shoulder. I glance up from the floor and looked at her, in her eyes I saw sympathy and kind understanding, "That must have been terrible for you." From her I felt a warm soothing feeling, like a hug from a friend, telling me that everything was all right now, that I was surrounded by friends who understood.  
  
I jerked my shoulder away, walled away my mind, and snarled at her, "I don't need your pity." I had the satisfaction of seeing hurt flash briefly in her eyes. I know, it's bad to inflict pain just for the fun of it on someone else, but I didn't want her to think that just because I had a bad childhood that it automatically made me someone who needed 'help'.  
  
I've never needed 'help.'  
  
I paused a moment, until it became obvious that they were waiting for me to continue. I shrugged, "After a couple of years of that I managed to escape during a battle. We were close to the Pelagirs, and since the Hills were the only place I could go to without getting gutted or hanged I headed there. The rest, as they say, is history."  
  
We sat there for a minute and looked at each other. I guess I was feeling a bit resentful about revealing so much about myself, but the last couple of days had turned my world upside down and I wasn't dealing well with it. I didn't really have anyone to talk to and I suppose in my own way I was as lonely as Roxy. Still, blabbing my life story to a trio of near complete strangers did not, in retrospect, seem like a particularly sane thing to do. I sent a brief prayer to the Lord and Lady to keep me from cracking up. As usual they didn't hear me.  
  
To hide my embarrassment I decided to change the subject. "So, what did you guys want to talk to me about?"  
  
The two Heralds glanced at each other again, and then looked at Gavin. He raised an eyebrow, "Well, since you brought up Garth's Raiders I suppose I'll start with them." He gave me a sardonic smile, and I immediately took a liking to him. Gavin was slightly dirty, like me, and I don't mean physically. He didn't have the shiny 'goodness' that Heralds seem to display, Lady Talia glowed with it and even Alberich had it under his rough exterior. I could tell that once bought he'd stayed bought, and that Valdemar had 'bought' him along time ago. He still seemed vaguely familiar, I wondered why until it occurred to me that he probably drank in many of the same taverns I looked for work in.  
  
He continued, "They're a bit more then a merc company now. It seems like this Garth had expanded his expertise into intelligence work and possibility assassination. I and Herald Alberich have been working together for the last couple of months trying to track down some major leaks, and it seems like we are starting to get close. One of my fellow agents who was helping disappeared two weeks ago, probably after discovering something that they didn't want to have uncovered."  
  
Gavin glanced at Alberich, "We know they're buying information from Haven's criminal underworld, we just don't know who it is yet." He looked to Lady Talia.  
  
She smiled, if her feeling were still hurt by my rejection of her sympathy she didn't show it. Taking her cue from Gavin she took over the conversation, "You've seen him, and you can help identify who their information broker is."  
  
I frowned, it didn't surprise me that they wanted information, but I couldn't give it to them. Not that I didn't want to, that is, but I simply couldn't identify the guy. I didn't have a name or location in Haven from where he operated; the crimelords in Valdemar tend to be quite secretive due to the Herald's ability to get anything out of anyone via the Truth Spell. I explained the problem.  
  
Lady Talia shook her head, still smiling. "That doesn't matter; there is still the fact that you got a good look at him. If you would consent to allowing one of our Thought-Sensors to take a look at him we might be able to locate where he is."  
  
I was surprised, "How?"  
  
"By linking with a Far-Seer, most likely. It isn't guaranteed that we'll locate him, of course, but your help would be most appreciated."  
  
I grunted silently at that, it probably didn't mean I was going to get paid. Just to know where I stood I asked, "And what happens if I don't decide to cooperate?"  
  
Alberich shrugged, "Admitted you have to being hired to kill me, and making an attempt. Changed your mind you did, but still a crime it is, and several years hard labor may reform you."  
  
The carrot and the stick. Just great, maybe Alberich wasn't so shiny after all, Gods-damned Herald. Well, time for the most important question, "Am I going to get paid?"

* * *

[A/N] Well, it looked like 'a few days' turned into nearly six months. Silly me, sorry about that. But the good news it that I'm finally writing again! Yay! gets giddy, calms herself down I think I finally figured out where I'm going with this thing, which I suspect was the main problem. Apologies to my beta reader for not sending this to her first. 


	14. The Long Wait

Chapter 14. Mind Probe.

Summary: Wherein Josan has someone rummaging through the trash-heap that is her mind, and gets a new employer.

Disclaimer: Valdemar, Velgarth, and all Canon Characters are the properties of Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. I am using them without the original authors' consent or knowledge. Only the plot and original characters are mine and may not be used without my permission.

It was later in the morning. The man 'Gavin' had disappeared somewhere, probably to make a report to his superiors, whoever they were, and I hoped that I wasn't going to get into any more trouble. Herald Target, er, Alberich and Lady Talia had escorted me into the Palace proper to a special sound-proofed room that the Heralds apparently kept and used for the purpose of focusing their various forms of mental Gift when needed. It was a bare room that contained a set of benches surrounding a wooden round table. On the table was a large crystal ball that was perfectly round and completely flawless. I wondered how much the thing cost until it occurred to me that the Kingdom was paying for it, and that price was probably not an object.

I and Lady Talia sat down on a bench while Alberich stationed himself by the door. We sat not talking while we waited for a few minutes. Roxy, while absent in body was present in spirit, so to speak, and was busily being a wiseass in the back of my mind. I realized that I had better find her something constructive to do with her time before she drove me nuts.

Before I could get sufficiently bored or insane a young male Herald in a fresh set of Whites entered the room. This, I decided, must be the Farseer they wanted to try locating The Client with. He looked vaguely familiar and Roxy silently supplied a picture of him, sans Whites, in one of the taverns I use as a contact point. I started to wonder just how many denizens of the Palace spent time in Exile's Gate.

He introduced himself as 'Brant', a name which reminded me of a donkey's bray, and sat down next to Lady Talia, opposite the table from me. Silently the three of us clasped hands, with Roxy making it a fourth.

When I was a child I was very poor, as you may have guessed by now. I did not eat on a regular basis, and when I did the food wasn't all that great. Bread usually had a lot of stone grit in it from the mill, and I didn't get much in the way of vegetables or meat. That, combined with the fact that for many years I was more concerned with actual survival then the health of my teeth meant that I didn't exactly have the best dental care.

All that changed after my first paid kill.

One of the very first things I did was go to a special type of Healer who does nothing but fix teeth. I think I spent most of the money from that kill there; in return he gave me a mouth full of gold and porcelain teeth. It hurt like hell, the Healer had offered to give me some kind of drug that would keep it from hurting, but I didn't want to take anything that might dull my senses.

Imagine, if you are rich enough, having a Healer who specializes in dentistry poke around in your mouth. You can feel the probe and little mirror they use go this way and that, the probe pressing and poking and prodding, occasionally hitting a particularly sensitive tooth.

That experience is about the closest I can think of to getting mind-probed by the Heralds. It didn't hurt, exactly, but I could feel Lady Talia poking into some very odd corners of my mind, nooks and crannies that I didn't even know were there. Occasionally she would hit some particularly sensitive memory, causing it to surface. I tried to focus on my meetings with The Client, without bringing anything else up, but I think she picked up a lot more then I wanted her to. Bitch.

Roxy, of course, was no help.

_: Hey Boss, can you ask her to go back a bit? I wanna see that stoop I did the other night:_

I ignored that as usual. She might not mind watching herself almost die, but I sure minded remembering it again. Whatever Lady Talia was doing made the memories as vivid as if I was watching them happen for the first time. I winced as a particularly nasty episode during my stint as one of Garth's child soldiers surfaced. It hurt.

"Will you just find The Client and quit poking at the other stuff?" I finally growled at her.

She laughed shakily and I got the impression that she was somehow more deeply affected by my memories then I was. Served her right for poking around in my mind.

"I'm not the one bringing them up," Talia said, "you are."

Shit. I am not _that_ fucked up.

_:Roxy? Can you give me a hand here?:_

_:Only if I get to see that stoop first:_

I growled but relented, as clearly as I could I pictured the attack on Alberich and felt Talia's Empathy grab a hold of the memory. Suddenly I was there again, seeing the weapon flicker out of the corner of my eye and _knowing_ that there was no way for me to deflect it in time. Like a streak of living lightning Roxy was there, stooping before the blade and taking the cut that was meant for me. All the emotions I felt then, fear, anger, pain, hatred, bubbled up in me again, and I had to fight to keep from reacting to them and doing something I would regret.

I felt drained, and I think Talia was a little stunned as well. Funny that, you would think that she would be used to seeing violence in other people's minds, being an Empath and all. On second thought maybe she is used to it, just not hardened to it. I guess that makes her a better person then me.

_:Happy now?:_ I asked Roxy.

_:Wow, I was pretty brave, huh Boss? Can I watch it again?:_

_:Hell no. Now it's your turn:_

_:Aw, Boss!:_

I remained firm, sometimes Roxy reminded me of a small child. A spoiled small child.

_:I heard that, that's a dead mouse on your pillow._:

_:Just do it:_

I felt Roxy reach out and grasp my mind firmly. Beside me Talia started in surprise, I guess I should have warned her. Fortunately she stayed in my mind, and I was able to sit back and watch as the two of them got to work on it. Roxy grabbed all the wandering streams of thought that seem to delight in tormenting me and glued them together, taming them temporarily. Talia reached in and gathered together all the bits and pieces of memories that I had of The Client and pulled them together, creating a living portrait of him in my mind before gluing it into her. Now that I was no longer needed Talia released my mind, and a second later I felt Roxy follow suit.

Talia took the image and fed it to the other Herald. He took it and focused on a crystal ball, I couldn't see what he was doing, but that didn't matter anymore. I was rather useless at the moment.

"Got him. Sort of. He's indoors, in a cellar probably. No windows."

"Direction, do you sense?" Asked my Herald Target.

"Uh... Exile's Gate, that's it," The Farseer sounded puzzled, and I wondered if he really knew what he was doing. I snorted, I could have told him that The Client operated out of Exile's Gate.

:I could have told him that too, Boss.: I snorted again, my mind felt like someone had turned it inside out, let it dry out in the sun, and then neatly put it all back in place with the corners tucked in, and for what? I was about to say something, but then the conversation turned seriously weird and I quickly shut my mouth.

"Do you think you can hook him?" Asked Lady Talia in her sweet voice of hers.

"I think so...wait a beat." We waited for far more then a beat and I, for one, was getting tired of trying to hold my breath when he suddenly nodded, let go of the crystal, and leaned back letting out a great sigh. "Got him."

Herald Alberich raised an eyebrow, "Hooked, is he?"

The other guy nodded, "I'll check him every couple of hours to see if he's changed position, but for now we have him. Once we get a fix on him we can move in."

"Uh, what?" They all turned to look at me, and I guess they were somewhat surprised to see me. Like they had forgotten me, or something. I felt insulted, I'm good at disappearing, but not that good.

:_I think they mean that he left some kind of indicator on him and that'll let them follow him around. Or something.:_

"We're watching him," said the nameless Herald at the same time as Roxy. He glanced at Herald Alberich, who shrugged. I guess that was all I was going to get, and to be truthful, I didn't really want to know the details. All I really knew about mind magic I picked up messing around with Roxy, it wasn't like I had a real teacher to teach me any of the hardcore shit these guys could do.

"Uh, okay." I looked around, but no one seemed to be saying anything to me. "I guess I'll go back to my room, if you guys don't need me anymore."

"I'll accompany you back," said the Lady, to my disgust. What the hell did she see in me, anyways? I didn't dare say anything, of course. I might not have exactly raised in the highest social circles, but I still knew better then to outright insult someone of her social stature. At least, not insult her if I wasn't actively pissed off at her. Which I wasn't. She was the kind of person whom it was hard to remain angry at for long.

There was a faint muffled protest from the nameless Herald, who was quickly shushed by Alberich, I guess I was either more, or less, trusted then I thought I was. I didn't know what his problem was, really, it wasn't like I had a contract on Her Ladyship, and even if someone had offered I would have turned them down. Like I said, I didn't do government jobs, up until now, anyways.

Besides, Alberich took all my knives, the bastard. At some point I'm going to have to whine at him about that, and make him buy me new ones. Or give me a government-sanctioned project. One that won't get my head chopped off.

"So," I said as soon as we were out of range of the men. "You looked pretty disturbed when you were diving my memories, am I really that fucked up?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Do you really want to know?"

I shrugged, I knew there was no way in Hell that I was normal. Normal people have to get drunk and seriously pissed off before they kill people, and said victims are almost always someone they know and love. One more reason not to get too heavily involved with other humans. "Just making conversation."

"Hmmm," just that, nothing else. Made me feel that I was really that fucked up. "Well, that was certainly an interesting experience in your mind. I can't imagine you like killing, after that."

I looked blankly at her, and wondered where she got the idea that I liked killing. Unless I was far more fucked up then I thought I was (which was fast becoming a possibility), I was having to interact with more people one a personal level in one day then I had since I was stolen from my family, if then. I guess that's pretty fucked up, after all. "I don't like killing. I don't hate it, either. It's just... a part of life, you know? Some people kill cows and chickens for food, I kill people for money. Not really that much different, really, and you wouldn't ask a slaughterhouse worker whether he liked killing cattle."

She smiled grimly. "Human lives are worth more then a cow's."

I grunted. "Only to a human, I imagine a cow might see things differently."

She raised an eyebrow, but fortunately I was saved from her response by our arrival at Roxy's room. Much to my surprise, and somewhat to my dismay Healer Aviana was there, I could hear her soft mummer and very much to my surprise I realized that the pauses in her speech were due to what must be Roxy's responses. Responses that I couldn't hear, but Aviana clearly could. I pushed back a surge of jealousy, clenched my teeth, and forced a smile. A couple of baby Healers, in fact, the same pair that I had met the previous night, were in the room as well, looking more then a little nervous.

"Hi. How's everything going?" I asked the room as a whole. The two baby Healers started, and spun around like I was going to attack them, or something. Aviana just glared at me. I suppose she still hasn't forgiven me for the previous evening.

:Fine Boss, did you know that Aviana rescued an orphaned Companion foal once, before she was a Healer? His mother had lost her Herald, and wanted to die, but she forced her to live until all three got to Haven, and...:

"Uh, okay." I blinked and examined the Healer again. Very definitely a better person then I was. "I guess you were making friends."

:_Yeah, I like her.:_

_:Only because she saved your life.:_

_:Well, there is that.:_

"Um," I said brilliantly, changing the subject. "Do you think it would be okay if I took her outside? She needs as much sun as possible."

The Healer looked to The Lady. "Sounds good, I wanted to talk to you, and the Companion's Field is a good place for privacy," said Lady Talia.

She wants to talk to me. Great.

:_I like her too, Boss.:_

I ignored that, and gathered her up in a pile of blankets, due to her wound I didn't want to make her perch on my shoulder where I had some protection thanks to my leather padding, and her claws were rather sharp. Livid red scratches were a hazard of being her companion, something I had accepted long ago, but that didn't mean that I didn't try to avoid them.

"So," I said once we were outside, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

She nodded toward the Field, and I sighed, clearly she didn't want to say anything until we were out there. I blinked, the entire Field, or at least the section of it I could see, was surrounded by a fence. They didn't want to keep the Companions fenced in, did they? "What's the fence for?"

Talia held the gate open for me, as my arms were rather full at the moment. "To keep the foals in, mostly. Adult Companions can jump it easily, or open the gates if they don't want to jump. We don't want the little ones wandering the Palace Grounds unattended."

"Ah." Made sense.

She lead the way to a small grove of trees off in the distance, and with a start I realized that what I thought was the whole Field turned out to be just a small part of what was apparently a very large park. Interesting that so much of the palace grounds were taken up by this place. Tells you something about the priorities of those in charge, I guess.

As we entered the little grove a Companion ghosted up to us, so silently that for one moment I really did think that I was seeing an ghost. If Alberich and his Companion were shiny, this freaking bastard practically glowed. He nuzzled Lady Talia gently, and lay down. Talia sat down and leaned against his flank. I took that as a signal that I was to sit down. too. I spread Roxy's blanket out in the dappled sunlight filtered through the trees and let her stretch out to sun.

"So," I said, watching Roxy's sides rise and fall. "When are you guys going to arrest me?" I was only half-joking, if they were going to arrest me I suspect that they would have done it the moment I pulled the knife on the Healer. Since that hasn't occurred I was betting that they had another use for me, probably involving me risking my skin. Not that I was necessarily adverse to that, if I was paid well.

Talia, the Lady that she was, pretended to ignore my comment. "You do realize that you won't be able to continue... perusing your previous occupation."

"Uh, yeah." Honestly, I hadn't thought too much about it, but the bastards now knew my name, face, modus operati, strength (Roxy) and weakness (Roxy again). If I wanted to continue doing things the way I had been I would have to leave the kingdom, at the very least.

_:She's got us there, Boss.:_

_:Yeah.:_

"I suppose you wouldn't be bothering to tell me this unless you had an alternative." I was very proud of how not pissed off I sounded.

She nodded, and pulled an apple out of somewhere and began quartering it. "I was wondering if you would like to become one of the Lord Marshal's agents. Alberich says you have the skill for it."

"Uh." I stared at her. Okay, I hadn't expected that, although I should have, I guess.

_:Agent for the Crown? Right on, Boss!:_ Roxy sat up excitedly and fanned her wings, hissing slightly as she tugged her wounded side.

I shook my head at them both. I don't do kids, I don't do windows, and I don't do government work. This, most definitely, was government.

But then, sometimes Government work does me.

I reached down and smoothed Roxy's wings back to her sides and shook my head slowly. "I'm going to have to think about it."

Talia shrugged, and handed the larger portion of her apple to the Companion before offering me a slice. I took it, it was nice and juicy, if a bit tart. Still a tad early for most of the apple harvest, but there were obviously a few early bloomers. She shrugged and stood, while her Companion floated to his feet. I have no idea how such a huge creature could look so...weightless.

"Someone will be here to escort you back to your rooms in an hour or so. You can walk around the Field until then, but I suggest you don't leave. If you get lost one of the Companions will help you back." She paused as a second Companion arrived, sans rider, arrived. It was the warrior stallion. She chuckled slightly, "Here's your warder, I think. This is Kantor."

"Uh, yeah. We've met." I saluted him, more then a little sarcastically, and he whickered at me. Maybe he did have a better sense of humor then his dour Herald.

Talia coughed politely to get my attention before smiling sweetly at me. I could almost feel the good feelings rolling off of her, but Roxy managed to deflect most of it. Not for the first time did I wonder just what the hell her Gift was. "I want to thank you for saving our Weapons-master. No matter what your original intentions were, you did save him when you didn't truly have to. That was an act of true nobility."

I shrugged uncomfortably while Roxy sniggered.

_:An act of true stupidity, more like.:_

I rolled my eyes. _:You and me both.:_

_:True.:_

Talia waited for a second, but there wasn't anything that I wanted to say to her, really. After all, what should I say? Thanks? I'm sorry that I was going to kill Alberich? I'm glad that I saved him? Both would be lies, really. So I shrugged, and waited for her to leave. Which she did after a moment, leaving us alone with the two Companions.

Suddenly the exhaustion of the last couple days hit me, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. My mind still felt disordered due to the very careful pilfering that had occurred earlier.

:_Better get some sleep, Boss, you're about to collapse on me.:_

_:Are you sure, Sweetheart? You don't mind?:_

Roxy stretched again, this time slowly and carefully. _:I'm sure, besides, I think these to guys are going to be keeping us company for the time being.:_

_:Oh.: _I remembered the revelation of a few days ago, when I found out she had been hanging around the Companion's Field. Given that we had already revealed ourselves there wasn't much point in having her avoid talking to them. She might as well make some friends. I tried to ignore the stab of jealously I felt at that thought, it wasn't like I owned her.

Rather then deal with the new complications to our relationship I spread out the remaining blanket and laid down. If Roxy was going to be spending her time talking with pretty white horses then I was going to do something more productive, like take nap.

No sooner were my eyes closed then I was away, and not even the murmer of distant coversation could keep me awake.

A/N

Well, I only got this up after about, oh, three years. Looks like I might be poking at this story some more. As always, I'm open to criticism, but don't be terribly shocked if it takes another three years to finish this thing! For bonus points, try to pick out the bits that were written three years ago from the bits that were written last night. Just for funnsies.


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